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fancybehaviour · 3 years

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Daddy Woes

Summary:

Harry is a good husband; so he sends his wife out on a much needed girls day. James Sirius is a naughty boy; so he sends his father down an anxiety spiral.

Notes:

Written for @harryandginuary BINGO!

Prompt I 23: “Why are there zucchini all over our kitchen?” “Do you not like zucchini?”

The sun had sunk low on the horizon, and in a few minutes would dissapear for the night. About dinner time, thought Ginny, as she made her way home after a long enjoyable day, her heels clicking rhythmically against the cobble. As she walked, she rewinded the highlights of her girls day out with Hermione and Luna in her head. Ginny had had an absolute hoot meeting her friends.She was sure she would continue to reminisce until the next time she could have such a day; after all being the mother of a seven month old meant that such trips were a rarity and she cherished them a lot.

Her legs ached from all the walking around she did while she helped Luna shop for her trip and she was looking forward to taking the nice long bath her husband had promised to draw her. She let out a sigh as she thought of sinking her aching legs in a hot bath, her husband perched at the edge of her bathtub as she gave him an exaggerated recount of the day's events peppered with silly nonsensical jokes, him guffawing at them all even though he had already heard them all. He did that a lot these days, laughing. Especially since the birth of their beautiful boy.

She felt a swell of love rise in her as she thought of her family; her seven month old baby son who could scream the house down and her loving husband who tried his best to give her respite from the said infant.

"Harry?" she called, pushing the front door to close and locking it. "James darling? I'm back home. Did you boys have fun?". She continued heading towards the kitchen where she could hear noises, taking care not to trip over the many toys that were strewn about their living room. Courtesy of their many relatives and friends, James seemed to have an amount of toys that seemed absolutely ridiculous to Ginny who couldn't remember seeing so many toys even at the Burrow, that had been the residence of seven children. Making the matter even more ridiculous was the fact that James's favourite toys were actually the copper pots and pans that he liked to bang about making noise.

It was only when she reached the kitchen and took in the desecration that it was that she realised that perhaps today, she might be the only one in the Potter household who might have had any semblance of fun.

Eyes darting from her slightly whimpering son in his high chair, to the trail of food spills surrounding him to the multicoloured stains adorning her husband's apron and his miserable face, she decided to address a whole other issue: “Why are there zucchini all over our kitchen?”

“Do you not like zucchini?”, asked Harry, in a tone that might have been wry if it weren't for the long suffering expression on his face.

"Absolutely not. Can't believe you thought I did, the honor of questionable taste will forever be Hermione's ."

He gave a laugh that seemed more for her benefit (making Ginny wonder if parenthood had done a number on her humour too) and set about cleaning up. Ginny walked into the kitchen and lifted the whimpering toddler into her arms. She pressed a loud smacking kiss on both of his chubby, chubby cheeks, and rocked him gently, seemingly this was all that was needed for his whimpers seemed to slowly subside. She could feel Harry's eyes on them as he continued to clean up the mess; she remained silent, waiting for him to tell her what was weighing on his mind.

Instead he said, "He missed you," so she turns around to see him, looking at them softly with a look on his face that Ginny could only describe as melancholy. It reminded Ginny of her fifth year, when he looked at her like that, like she was everything he wanted but was unattainable.

It seems she was going to have to demand answers after all. Very well.

"Alright Potter, spill. Whatever happened today that has got you relapsing into your teenage angst?"

He laughed, and this time it was a genuine one; BINGO!

Pulling a chair at their kitchen table and settling himself down he said " James kept crying after you left. A lot."

"Uh-huh. Nothing he hasn't done before. "

"Yeah. Sure. But today I just realised.."

"Yeah?" She asked, settling down into the chair opposite him, shifting James into her lap who seemed very fascinated with playing with her hair.

Harry watched him for a moment and then continued, "I know James crying is nothing new. Yet for some reason, it just bothered me today, you know."

"Uh-huh."

"It made me feel like a bad parent." he confesses, looking a bit surprised himself, perhaps at that he had spoken it out loud, yet continued with "I have been feeling like it a lot these days."

There.The dam had finally broken. Ginny had long since suspected that Harry was having troubles with parenting. She had caught him brooding about with a tea mug in his hands instead of going back to bed after whatever ungodly hour James Sirius had decided to wake them up.

She tried many times,to get him to talk, but between her own exhaustion, an infant with a strong pair of lungs and Harry's stubborn refusal to burden Ginny with anymore than she was already dealing with nothing had come out of it. But now that he seemed to want to talk, Ginny did not stop him.

"I just… "he paused, and swallowed, something he did when he was overcome with emotion but wanted to bite it down.

"I want to do this right. I have never wanted so badly to do something right in my whole life. Family..it means everything to me and I want to be a good father but I'm afraid I am failing."

"You are an amazing father, Harry."

He shook his head.

"Am I?"

"Yes" Ginny agreed furiously.

Harry looked into her eyes at that and she hoped he could read her, that he could see himself from her eyes, how she fell in love with him more and more everyday as she saw more and more of dad Harry.

Looking away he continued, "I sure don't feel like it. Today, while you were away, all Jamie wanted was his Mum. I tried everything, feeding him your milk, his favourite toys - yes the pans and pots, we are lucky we have no neighbours- feeding him all sorts of baby food and yet nothing seemed to work for long before he started wailing again. "

Ginny replied, "I don't want to sound like I'm being condescending, but this is the only way I can seem to put it- he's a toddler Harry. No one knows why toddlers do what they do. If he was fussy with you today and missed me I doubt it's because he has decided you were a bad parent."

"I know that - rationally.But the part of me - the same part of me that gets jealous of blokes trying to chat you up or worries that Ron is going to make a new best friend - that part of me makes me think I have been a bad father."

"Today when Jamie kept crying for you, and I wasn't able to calm him down or feed him any of the amalgamation of baby foods I made- it just felt like I was in over my head, without a clue about what was doing. I might as well have been one of those dads who say they are 'babysitting' their kids and leave them up to their mothers and that's not- I never want to be that."

"I don't just want to do this right, I want be good at this. Like I am at Quidditch or catching dark wizards. I know I can catch a snitch, I know how to find a criminal on the run from law. Just like that, I want to be good at taking care of my son...but today, everything I did kept failing and that made me think.."

"James dented your confidence, didn't he," she said softly.

"He did," Harry agrees looking over at the boy who was happily sucking on his toes, completely ignorant of the spiral he had sent his father through.

Lacing her fingers with his, she said,"My mum told me, with parenting, there's bad days and good days, but you've got to understand that having bad days is not equivalent to being a bad parent."

"I imagine she had a lot of those, with seven of you," replied Harry wryly.

"Two of them Fred and George", Ginny reminded him.

They sat for a moment in silence both lost in thought.

"Gin-"

"Harry" ,they both started at the same time, and Harry motioned for her to go on.

"I was just thinking - I had help with this. My mum, Fleur, Angelina, my teammates - I had people to talk this with. To reassure me that I wasn't doing things wrong. But you don't have that."

"No. But I've got you."

"You do," she agrees. "But also, maybe you should talk to people too. Maybe my dad or Bill or George"

He snorts at that. "If anyone had told me ten years ago that I'd be talking parenting with George.." he trails off as Ginny gives a light chuckle.

"Seriously though," she says again, "Give it a try. I'm always here though. To listen. Or if you wanna get competitive over who is the worse parent".

Grinning, he says "I fed him courgettes Gin. He hated it. I'm winning this game." and she smiles at him, simply happy to see him happy.

"Oh and what is it?", she asks, and at his quizzical raise of eyebrows she elaborates, "that you wanted to say? You wanted to say something but you let me go first."

At that he gives her a wide smile and says,

"Just that I love you."

#harry potter x ginny weasley #harry and ginuary #harry potter series #harry james potter #harry styles #ginny weasley #ginevra molly weasley #ginnymollyweasley #ginny molly weasley #ginevra weasley #ginny tag #hinny #hinny drabble #married hinny #harry x ginny #james sirius potter

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imagining-in-the-margins · 2 years

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Rejected Requests Part 13

Hello everyone! I am unfortunately back with another set of Rejected Requests (Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 3, Pt 4, Pt 5, Pt 6 , Pt 7 , Pt 8 , Pt 9 , Pt 10, Pt 11, Pt 12)

I understand this is very disappointing for many of you (especially those that have been waiting for a long time). I promise it has nothing to do with you, and mostly it’s just because my brain has decided it doesn’t want to cooperate.

I will post the rejected fics below the cut. I want to give you the opportunity to ask another Writer (check the list of Writers currently seeking requests here! It’s been recently updated!) For some, I’ve already allowed another author to take a whack at it, and I’ll link to them below!

Here is the list for anyone who might want to pursue the request with someone else, or for any writers that are looking for inspiration.

@reidgraygubler , my love who might as well have first dibs on all of my requests because they take so many of them like the true MVP, jumped at this idea. Since they expressed an excitement (and I just received 5 requests in less than a week) they agreed to take this one on for you! They will do a wonderful job, as always ❤️

Hey friend! This is so sweet, but unfortunately I'm just not up for a lot of requests right now, especially ones that will require a lot of characters/scenes. That being said, I think this is super adorable and I really hope someone writes it!

If it helps, there will be a similar scene in a later episode of TB&TB, which I think might scratch that itch.

Ah, I actually love love triangles. Unfortunately, we view Hotch's character on opposite ends of the spectrum, so anything I wrote would be far removed from your original request. I'm also not attracted to Hotch at all (he reminds me of my dad 😅) so I would struggle with him.

I'm sure there are people out there who would love to write this, though!

Your message was so sweet and I am honored that you took the time to send it. As you mentioned, I've written a lot of things similar to your first request so I think I'm burned out of them for now. I also got a few more Autistic Reader requests that aren't shown here. As much as I love writing them, they do exhaust me when I do (especially since they are usually meltdowns). I will try to include more bear hugs in them just for you, though!

As for the second one, I find the idea absolutely hilarious. I'm just not that familiar with childbirth and I'm too lazy to do a lot of research for the fic 😭 That being said, I will be adding it as a prompt whenever I do a challenge for "Stuck Together" because it really is very funny.

I'm so relieved to hear that my BPD fic was comforting to you! Unfortunately, I don't like to write them because not only do I not have BPD, I don't have Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria or a similar disorder. I have a really hard time putting myself in that position of that Reader, and I don't think I'd be able to put out something good.

I would love to help someone write this, though, if they are interested.

ALL OF THE BELOW ARE NSFW, MINORS DNI

Wow! You weren’t joking when you said you’ve thought about this a lot. I’m honestly impressed and halfway feel like I’ve already read the fic, lol!

Whenever someone approaches me with a request like this, I usually urge them to take a swing at it themselves. Your vision for this world sounds amazing, and I think it’d be a great place for you to start. I’d be happy to help you if you want, but I want it to be yours!

That being said, @reid-me-a-story wanted to take it on, as well! So you can message them about any follow up questions/comments!

I’m devastated no one took this request from me because it sounds like a blast. I have no reason for rejecting it other than I don’t see myself writing it for so long that it’s not worth it for you and I wanted to put you out of your misery.

I love the idea of Spencer just starting to blabber about his fantasies and then he can’t stop and they’re coming to life around him and he’s a complete wreck… yeah ❤️

Hey friend! Unfortunately, I’m not up for CNC, which is (I think?) what you’re asking me for. This is actually my bad, because I didn’t put it on my Request Guidelines (just edited them to fix it)!

I hope that you can find someone to help you out with your request. Thank you for your super kind words - I wish you all the best! ❤️

@reidgraygubler wanted to snatch this one from me! I actually really love the idea, I just couldn’t come up with something that made me happy enough to write. Picturing him all giddy and excited to finally be properly taken care of is fucking adorable, tho. I can’t wait to see what Shadow does with it!

That’s it for now, folks! If you’ve read this far… Thank you!

Sorry for all of you that I denied, but I hope that this clears you to ask some of the other authors here!

Thank you for your support. I appreciate all of you more than I can explain!

#spencer reid request #rejected requests #rejected

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rpbetter · 3 years

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Hi! How do you distinguish between a mun who has favorites but still treats their non favorites with respect, and a mun who has favorites but uses this as an excuse to disrespect everyone else? Sometimes it's hard for me to tell, and I'd love to hear what you think.

Hey, Anon! That's actually a great question.

It's also totally reasonable to have a hard time telling. When you feel like you might be a little more into the threads than the other mun is, no matter how much they're being respectful and caring, it can still feel a bit...lame. We all want to be a favorite writing partner, even as we know that's impossible, that we can't manage that ourselves. It's not a thing of logic!

I feel like I should probably preface the detailing I'm about to do - this is only my experience. There are always variables in anything dealing with other people, and any time we're already feeling down, it's really easy to see things in a way that might not be the reality.

Alright, then.

Muns who use this as an excuse or justification for what they're doing tend to be the ones that:

are likely to pair the excuse/justification with aggressively vilifying anyone who takes issue with their treatment of them for being too serious about RP/too emotionally invested in anything from friendships to ships/otherwise "not realizing it's just a hobby" - apparently, "hobby" actually means "you're not making a dollar, so, do whatever you want in whatever way you want, so long as it's making you and only you happy and comfortable," who knew?

will lead muns on, either because they're uncomfortable with telling those who are not the favorites that...well, they're not the favorites and they might wish to just drop the threads or because...

they have a bit of a habit of going through favorites/their favorites take frequent breaks or are slower to reply, and it's good to have other muns around for when either situation happens - it's okay if everyone else is bored and/or left out, but not them

become angry and defensive if you ask them about your thread(s) and/or if everything is alright after a reasonable period of inactivity only on your threads*

if they previously had OOC contact and/or a friendship with you, it's one pole or another of OOC behavior with you now - no contact/as little as they can possibly manage or they'll proceed like you also only want to have conversations about what is going on with the favorite(s), the ships, the threads, the fandom, the mun. Before anyone misconstrues this to mean that "so, no matter what they do it's sus lol," no. There is such a thing as neither insulting someone by having nothing else to talk about except the mun/muse/ship you're ignoring them for nor just stopping/avoiding conversation altogether. It's actually not normal or acceptable to treat people like disposable fixations or expect them to be thrilled or lie about it when you can't shut up about their replacement(s)

in general, if this mun just keeps making it apparent that neither you nor anyone else exists unless they're the favored mun? That's really it. That's the difference between having favorites and still treating other muns with respect - there isn't any respect, none of you exist to respect

*I'm not going to speak to what is reasonable to everyone, it's one of those things I think muns should mention to some degree in their rules, but with people taking it to mean things it doesn't, it's doubtful that's going to happen. (I encourage it, though, please, put in your rules when you'll ask about threads or if you'll assume there is no more interest and they've been dropped. "After one month of no reply and no OOC contact, I will either contact you to ask if you're still interested." No big deal!) For me, it would depend on the mun themselves, even if I've got in my rules that after x time, I will assume y. If this is a mun that has updated OOC that they're extra slow right now, and they're usually pretty slow, I'm going to just see that as them prioritizing preferred partners with what little time they have, that's not coming across as rude favoritism to me at that point. If it's a mun that has continued to reply as normal, posted no updates OOC, and they're specifically just replying to one or two favorites with that regular timing, I'm going to ask if they're still interested after a month or so.

The problem always is that, despite what the RPC likes to say for the same damn reason, we're all afraid to be acting on ridiculous suspicion and paranoia. We get treated a certain way, maybe it is once and it was just extremely bad, maybe it has happened over and over again, and we really do start seeing phantoms of ill-treatment. It becomes difficult to trust your own judgment and listen to your inner voice (one that, furthermore, is already at least a bit embattled by life on and offline).

These are only some points to help you trust yourself or disprove yourself if you already feel like there might be this problem going on.

If you have someone who could be impartial when given evidence, you might want to consider asking if they'd mind helping you identify if this is a problem or not. Don't mention mun names or even muses if you're in the same intersections of the RPC, you're not trying to smear anyone here, just get a different viewpoint that isn't touched by any negative or positive feelings about that mun!

I said "evidence," so, I want to be clear that I did not mean screenshots or direct quotes. Give situations, what the mun is and is not doing, as both are important.

Some questions that might help you identify things to present to a third party for help:

Are they replying to any of your threads, how about asks?

If/when they reply to you IC, how do they reply? Is it shorter than it used to be, unenthusiastic? Or is it the same, just fewer and farther between, or less interesting to you than what they're doing with preferred partners?

Are the plots they're doing with the favorite(s) ones that you previously had with them or that you had plotted out and were working toward? And if that answer is yes, are these common plots that can be applied anywhere or specific ones?

Is this all something that is perhaps temporary overexcitement, or has this just kept going on for months, shows no sign of stopping?

Did you speak/were friends OOC? If so, how has this changed? Frequency of messaging, topics of conversation, enthusiasm, interest in you or your muse?

Are you now left out of games on the dash in which you used to be tagged, or unwelcome in things like "dash crack?" Is it, by contrast, that you might be welcome in the latter, but either it doesn't interest you by inclusion/focus of the favorite or because you lack a base of engagement with what's going on?

Do they send you memes, has that changed at all?

The way you feel is valid, but it might also be influencing the way you're viewing a situation, including in how you relate it to someone else for help. So, try to stick to actions when doing so.

By contrast, muns who have favorites but are not using this to justify being disrespectful to others tend to:

be open and upfront about having favorites and why - they're not trying to hide anything, including what makes their favorite writing partners, threads, and ships favorites to begin with

^they are not "open and upfront" by obnoxiously reminding everyone constantly who those favorites are, they're not shit posting how @munthatisntyou is their bestie/their muse is lusting after their muse/actually my wife. They are upfront about it by stating in their rules they can, will, and do have favorites. They're open about it by not lying or acting like it's the worst accusation ever when someone asks them about it

definitely have priority threads, might have an easier, thus faster, time responding to questions/prompts regarding those threads/ships, but still respond with equal interest to memes from others*

the same is true of interest and turnaround time with thread replies, they might get the preferred ones out faster, but they're still replying to everyone and still keeping other muns updated on what's going on*

will not be hostile when approached by fair, politely put concerns about threads, but rather, will respond with honesty as to their interests - whether they have, indeed, changed or haven't alike

they still express the same interest OOC outside of messages, liking and commenting on posts, sending memes, and being concerned or congratulatory when they see OOC posts dealing with life events

in general, muns who just have favorites like everyone does remain aware of others in the same way they always have, still make efforts to respond to threads, memes, messages, etc. with the same interest they always have - they appreciate everyone they interact with, not only their favorite(s)

*Everyone has a different way that works for them, and that influences their meme answering, thread replying, and OOC response turnaround time. A very social mun might respond to OOC messages more frequently, reliably, and with more zeal than a mun who is less socially active, forgetful, or dealing with different difficulties that might prevent doing so, for example. As another example, a mun who writes lengthy, detailed novella that takes a while to finish is going to take longer with everyone than a mun who writes in a way, or just has more time to write, that allows for replies to get out faster. Please, keep expectations and observances mindful of these factors and differences! What is typical of one mun might be perceived as legitimate favoritism when contrasted with a mun who operates differently than them.

That's really the difference, there is recognition and appreciation of everyone. They might have a visibly different friendship with their favorite(s), but it doesn't come with the cost of treating everyone else either like they don't exist or like total shit. And that comes in many ways, as many ways as there are possible interactions in the RPC. From being casual mutuals who do not write together (still acknowledging posts etc.) to outright writing partners (still giving replies with as much effort and quality).

You can think of muns like this as you would people who have different sorts of friendships as opposed to people who have rather cliquey friendships in which it's often enough a clique of two in which everyone else, even if included or otherwise used by those two, only exists out of necessity. The former is a normal social situation, we get on well with the people we do for a reason, and that's perfectly alright. The latter is some immature and self-interested behavior one should have grown out of in junior high.

As you didn't ask for this, I'm putting it under the cut as additional advice for others!

If you feel like someone is being disrespectful, or worse, and is glossing it over with "it's okay for people to have favorites, calm down" (a thing that's totally true but not meant to be used to excuse shitty behavior), you really do want to just remove yourself from the situation. In a situation like that, you're not going to change their behavior, and even if you did, are you ever going to be able unsee it?

What is more likely to happen is you'll be growing the seed of upset they planted into a big tree of animosity. Every time you are on your dash and see them replying or tagging their favorite(s), you're going to be either hurt or angry. Eventually, it's impossible to separate which of those things you are, and it's increasingly likely you're going to say or do something regrettable. And I mean regrettable in how it is likely to negatively affect you. You don't deserve to be branded a terrible person for an outburst. The situation has been bad enough.

Whether you should soft block to unfollow and force an unfollow, hard block, unfollow with or without communication is all subject to too many variables for me to advise any single course of action.

If it's possible to communicate politely that you're officially dropping threads or unfollowing, I will always advise doing so. If that isn't possible because this mun has been that terrible, or has proven in the past that they will react badly to such communications, then so be it, just quietly remove yourself from their presence.

You owe friends, even former ones if they've not done you awfully, the decency of communicating that you're ending things. You owe mutuals who haven't done anything more than ignoring you (as awful as that is, it's not as bad as being aggressively disrespectful, lying to you, leading you on, etc.) that decency and maturity as well. You do not owe anyone who has behaved like an immature ass that decency, it's okay to just leave in those cases. As it is in situations when you feel confident that speaking to them is going to cause drama for you.

When a mun hasn't ever really interacted with you, you've become mutuals, but it never went anywhere because they were already engaged in ignoring everyone except the favorite(s), it's alright to just leave quietly, too. They clearly don't register that you exist, so...don't exist. Go exist around muns who know you're there. But the caveat to that should be that if they decide to notice your vacant spot on the dash and come to you to ask about this, you should answer them. Be honest, but polite. Tell them that you just didn't see working out with them after all, and since you hadn't interacted, you unfollowed.

You never know (you just shouldn't count on it), in that latter case especially, that mun might honestly not be aware of the effect of their actions. Like everyone else, they're just doing what they enjoy, what makes them happy is what they're concentrated on, and might genuinely just have a narrow field of vision on it until spoken to.

Whatever is right for the unique situation at hand, don't lie to someone if they message you about it. Don't just act like it was an accidental unfollow or a tumblr glitch, grit your teeth, and add them back so that there is no unpleasantness. There is already unpleasantness if you felt the need to distance yourself from them, remember that!

#answered #anonymous #favoritism #rp advice #mun behavior

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silenceofthecookies · 3 years

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congratulations on 200 followers! i'd like to request chamomile with william vangeance and a female reader, if that's ok?

Hi Anon! Oh boy, William is my favourite character in Black Clover and I am weak for him. That’s probably why this scenario turned out a little longer than expected. The prompt you picked suited him perfectly as well! It’s marked in bold, enjoy~!

It had been so long since you had last seen William. With him being the captain of the Golden Dawn, and you being a traveller, the two of you couldn’t meet up often. You’d stop by the capital every now and again to try and visit him, but more often than not he could only see you for a short while because he was busy, or he was on a mission and you couldn’t even see him. You sent letters back and forth, magic is a very useful tool for that, but it just wasn’t the same as meeting in person.

This time though, a letter had come from another friend of yours; Yami. It was rare for him to send you a letter. He usually let you be and listened to your stories over a good drink when you’d visit him. Unlike William, he usually had lots of time to spare and he often let you stay over in the Black Bull headquarters when you were around. Or if he was busy, he’d make time for you. Not something very responsible, but sometimes you wished William would do that for you.

Yami’s letter was short as always and he was super vague as well. You had to be at the Black Bulls HQ in a month. There was no reason. Just that you needed to arrive there the morning of December 24th. You expected it was a Christmas party that he wanted to invite you to for some reason. Not one to turn down a good party, and you knew parties with the Black Bulls were great, you changed your course to make sure you arrived on time.

Entering the Black Bulls building without knocking, you know nobody ever answered anyway, you looked around the room in search for Yami. It wasn’t hard to find him. He was lying on the couch, asleep, surrounded by a few bottles. What a surprise. You chuckled and walked up behind the couch. Using your magic, you flipped it over so the couch was now lying on Yami instead of the other way around. Trying not to giggle too loud, you saw Yami get up.

“Luck! Magna! You guys are in for it no-… Y/N?” “Hi Yami~” “You did this?” He pointed at the couch next to him. “Yup.” you giggled. Yami sighed, put the couch back on its place and lit a cigarette before speaking again. “Glad you could make it.” “Glad to be here. So, Black Bulls party tonight?” “No, we had that last night. Tonight we’re having another party.” “With who?” “You’ll see. First, come with me.”

Yami refused to tell you what party it was. All you knew is that you were flying towards the capital. Wasn’t William around there? The moment you asked Yami about William, he grinned and you knew you were right. The idea of celebrating Christmas with your two friends warmed your heart.

What happened after though, you didn’t expect. Yami brought you to some kind of beauty parlour. He pushed you in, and a bunch of women flocked you, dragging you with them and prepping you. It took a good while before they were done. They put you in a dress, did your hair, your makeup, your nails,… by the time they were done and you looked in the mirror, you barely believed you were looking at yourself. You almost looked like a noble.

As you left the building, you noticed Yami was sitting in a pub across the street. The moment his eyes landed on you, you could see him whistle through the window and he left the building.

“Looking good, Y/N.” “Thanks Yami but... what is this for? I don’t see you dressing up, and parties with us three are never this formal?” “I never said it would just be the three of us.” You felt your heart sink to your stomach. “Yami... what kind of party is this?” “William’s birthday party. We’re doing something with a bunch of magic knights.” “Then what am I doing here?!” “You’re my present to William.” “...I’m WHAT?!” “Look, before you kill me, hear me out. William never tells anyone what he wants for his birthday. He always accepts gifts he gets politely, but I know he throws most of that crap out anyway. A while ago we were talking about you and he mentioned it had been a while since he had seen you. So, you being there will be my present.” “That’s... oddly sweet of you. Two questions though.” “Shoot.” “Why didn’t you tell me about the party earlier?” “Because I knew you’d freak out the moment I mentioned that there’d be a shitload of strangers.” “Good judgement, fair enough. Second. Why?” You gestured at your face and dress as you asked the second question. “Gifts should be wrapped nicely, right?”

You slapped your forehead and sighed. Yami chuckled and spoke up again.

“Let’s go, we need to be there before him.”

Following Yami, you ended up in a nice-looking tavern. There were a lot of people already waiting inside. Most of them were wearing the Golden Dawn uniform, members of his squad you guessed. Some were also dressed in uniforms form other squads, and you recognised most of them were captains. The moment you and Yami entered, all eyes were on you and a man with black hair in a green cape whistled.

“Who’s that, Yami?” “A friend of Williams. Don't tell him she’s here, it’s a surprise.”

Before the man could reply, Yami dragged you along to one of the rooms that was connected to the tavern hall. After telling you to stay there until he came to get you, Yami left the room, leaving you and your nerves alone.

You had no idea how long you were in there before you heard a commotion from behind the door. William had arrived, and you could feel your heart beat faster. Trying to remain as calm as you could, you waited for any sign from Yami to come out. Not too long after, you heard 3 knocks on the door before it opened. Stepping out of the room, all nerves vanished the moment you saw William. His face changed from his usual composed expression to one of surprise. You were surprised too though, because he was not wearing his mask. You had seen him without it before, but he never took it off in front of others. Composing yourself, you spoke up.

“Hi William, happy birthday.” You smiled. “Y/N...” William got up from his chair and walked up to you, also smiling. “It’s such a pleasant surprise to see you here.” “You’ll have to thank Yami for that.”

Before the conversation could continue, someone else called out to William, clearly excited to give their present. William somewhat begrudgingly tore his eyes away from you to receive his other presents. You stood next to Yami as you watched, waiting for him to be done. Every now and again his eyes would shift towards you and you’d smile at him, which made him smile as well.

A few hours passed like that. After everyone had given William their presents, they pulled him along for some shenanigans. Most of them involved alcohol. You stuck with Yami and drank with him, deciding that now was probably not a good time to disturb William. The man with the black hair who whistled at you earlier sat down at the table with you and Yami.

“So, William’s got himself a girlfriend, huh? How come we’ve never seen you? If I were him, I wouldn’t let a cutie like you out of my sight.” “Oh we’re not-“ “She travels a lot. You know William, he’s too busy with work to keep her from getting bored.” Yami cut you off with a grin. “Tch, that sounds like him.” The man said disapprovingly. “Hey, giant string beam, why don’t we give the lovebirds a chance to slip away?” “Huh? What did you just call me, you stupid meathead?” “Y/N, here’s your chance. We’re going to create an opening, you pull William away and get out of here.” Yami said as he grinned at you. “Wait what?”

Before you could even ask what was going on, Yami and the other man got up and walked towards the group where William was. Once there, they pulled out their weapons and started picking a fight with each other. You had no idea what was going on, but you did know that this was your chance to finally get some time with William. Running over there, you grabbed Williams hand in the commotion and pulled him outside with you. William followed you, unsure of what was going on. Once outside, you ran out of the street, not quite sure where to go yourself. William seemed to have an idea though, and he pulled you through a few streets to a little park. You both stood there catching your breath before William spoke up.

“I’m sorry, did I take too long?” “Oh no! That was Yami’s idea.” “I see… I’ll have to thank him for it later. I’ve been wanting to speak with you all night.” “Really? Well, I guess it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other.” “It has been. How are you, Y/N?”

The two of you walked through the park as the two of you caught up on what happened since you last saw each other.

“You’ve changed” you said. William looked at you in surprise. “I hope not in a bad way?” “Oh no! Definitely in a good way! When I saw you in the midst of all those people without your mask, I guess… I felt kind of proud?” “Proud?” “Yes… you know, you were always so insecure about it, but here you’re showing your beautiful face to everyone.” You smiled and looked over to William, who seemed a little embarrassed. “My beautiful face…? Surely you jest, Y/N.” “Not at all.” He looked at you in surprise, but then smiled. “Thank you for the compliment, Y/N, but I can’t hold a candle to the beauty of you, certainly here in the moonlight.”

Now it was your turn to get a little embarrassed. You looked away with a smile, which made William chuckle.

“I truly am happy to have seen you here tonight, Y/N. For how long will you be staying?” “I haven’t decided yet. I did come all the way out here, I might as well stick around for a while.” “I… would like it if you did. Maybe we could… spend some more time together?” “Aren’t you busy?” “I am but… I don’t want to let my work get in the way of spending the precious time you are here with you. I’ve truly not spent enough time with you over the last few years, and for that I apologise. And I’d like to make up for it.” You smiled after hearing this. “Better get started then, you’ve got a lot to make up for, I’ve spent more time with Yami this year alone than with you over the past… what? 3 years? Maybe 4?” William’s expression turned serious at the mention of Yami. “Y/N, I have to ask you something… Are you and Yami in a relationship?” You blinked a few times before you answered. “No, we’re not. Why?” “In that case, would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow?” “Oh I’d love to! But I don’t see what that has to do with me and Yami being in a relationship or not?” “Because I’d like for it to be a date.” You looked at William in shock. “A…date…?” “Ah, if you don’t feel the same that is fine, and we can just have it be a dinner between friends… but I’ve had feelings for you for a while already, Y/N. I was always nervous about telling you, and I always thought I wasn’t good enough for you… but I don’t want to hide it anymore.” “No! I’d love for it to be a date! I just… I never expected you to feel the same?” “I see we had the same worry… I wish I had found the courage to tell you sooner, now.”

The two of you laughed at the situation and the absurdness of it. Once the laughter died down, you spoke up again.

“Let’s return to the party, it’s your birthday after all.” “Sadly, you’re right. I’d much rather look at you in the moonlight all night, though.”

He held his arm out to you, and you linked your arm with his after rolling your eyes. It was going to be a long night, though the thought of spending tomorrow evening alone with William made it all a bit more bearable.

#black clover x reader #black clover scenario #william vangeance x reader #william vangeance imagine #william vangeance scenario #black clover imagine #black clover #william vangeance #cookie writes #scenario #200 followers event #requested #anon #scheduled post

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fayeimara · 3 years

Text

Meant To Be || One For Every Billion

6. By My Side | Pt 5

It takes you just a moment to understand his last message but you're already looking up as the dots are being connected and there he is, walking towards you with a real smirk on his real face.

So when he reaches you, you immediately say, "Definitely cute." and watch his mouth drop as he blushes.

Pretty boy didn't think you'd say it, did he? People should really know better than to dare you.

Although he gathers his composure pretty fast, responding after a beat, "Not cuter than you."

You laugh and shake your head, finishing the rest of your drink before standing, "Do you want anything?"

"I'm good, I just had a milkshake from the snack bar on the corner."

He moves to let you pass by him, following your lead as you move to exit the lounge and comment, "That's how you got here so fast. Where are the others?"

"Decided to do their own things, I guess. I think Maki was tired. I don't know what Iwa-chan and Mattsun are up to."

"Uh huh." You had a pretty good idea. They're probably busy being some of the best wingmen ever. That or Toru just ditched his friends, but you don't think he'd really ever do that.

But he'd also be complaining a little more that they ditched him if he didn't have some sort of idea so... you don't know what to think. Which is becoming a constant issue in his presence but it doesn't feel bad or scary.

At this point, you're not going to question it. If everyone is okay and happy, then you're going to focus on the now. Toru is really good at bringing that out in you, you realize as you come to a stop in the warm night air.

Turning to face him with a smile, you ask, "So, then, any requests from the birthday boy?"

His eyes light up with excitement and he responds, "Yes, but it's a surprise!"

"Okay, but.. shouldn't I be surprising you?" You question as he starts to lead you away from the lounge entrance.

"You already did! Now I know we have all night to enjoy the rest of the park."

"Or at least until it closes in a couple hours."

"Then we can gather anyone who's still up and have a party in my room!"

"Yeah, that's real ambitious. We'll see on that but- what's first?"

He stops briefly when he sees a cotton candy stall and answers in his sing-song manner, "First, something sweet for my angel."

Oh he's so cute. Seriously. But you let him buy it for you before prompting, "And now?"

"And now," he looks over at you with a satisfied smile, "we enjoy a ride down a river in a boat." He reveals, just as the two of you reach the entrance to the small, peaceful dock.

"Don't they close the river rides after dark?"

"In ten minutes, actually. So we should hurry because it'll drop us off to our next destination."

You look at him in surprise as you both join the relatively short line. Did he have this planned for before, when he thought you were going to leave? It's a little bittersweet because that's really thoughtful but, it also makes you sad to realize that would mean that maybe he thought the two of you wouldn't see each other again until the next time you visited. It also made you question... Were you unintentionally pushing him away when you visited?

Or you're just overthinking as per usual and he just puts this much effort into it every time he's spending time with a girl he might like. Right.

The two of you reach the front of the line in just a couple minutes and listen to the instructions from the staff member who tries to hand you down into the automated boat. You say 'try' because Toru's hand cuts in between and he helps you instead, giving the guy a pretty condescending smile. He's not even threatened, just.. acting like there was no other possibility because, well, it's not even a contest. You can't lie, you like it.

You settle down and he gets in after you, pretty steady himself as he elegantly plops down into the seat next to you, his arms stretching forward for a brief moment before leaning back into the seat, shifting his legs forward, and placing his hands in his jacket pockets. And whatever he just did there.. that's pretty hot too.

As your boat moves away from the dock, you're struck by the romantic atmosphere of the ride. The quiet melody of the water you're gliding through, the trees dotting the sides of the river that sway with a breeze every so often, their branches reaching towards the water like the leaves are looking for a cool, gentle place to lay. You and Toru, under the stars that are peeking slightly out of the sky, like shy observers to your secret little adventure.

He isn't saying anything either, studying the environment and in his own thoughts you suppose, but you don't mind the silence. You do, however, offer him the cotton candy, tilting the base of the cone you're holding so it's angled towards him. He pulls a hand free from his pocket to reach out and grab a tuft of the cloud-like candy before popping it in his mouth with a smile.

"Do you think about where you want to be in the future?" He's looking up at the sky, head tilted back against the seat, when you look over at his question.

You bite your lip, considering what he's asking. You think way too much about it sometimes, you suppose. "How far in the future?"

He looks over at you in surprise, like he expected a quick answer instead of your clarifying question. Now it's his turn to think. "I guess in a few years, after graduating. What do you want to do?"

"What I want to do is probably very different from where I might be, I think."

"How so?"

You're both looking at each other, lost in another bubble together, so you try to be as honest to yourself as you want to be with him, "In an ideal world, I would either write or play volleyball. Realistically, I'll end up tied to... my family business more than I'd like. Which means I likely won't have the time or energy left to do the things I love."

His eyes are wide, you think he's realized he just turned a mountain, not a rock. Maybe even you wouldn't know what to say in response to someone who just said what you did. But then he surprises you yet again, "If you know what you want to do, what stops you from making sure that's where you end up instead, no matter what?"

"You know," you smile at him softly, "That's exactly the battle I'm currently fighting. So we'll see how it turns out, I guess."

"So," his voice turns teasing, "will you pick writing or volleyball, when you win?"

"Probably writing," you answer with a laugh, releasing the weight that just took a break on your shoulders.

"Why?"

"You love volleyball, right? So much that you can't see yourself doing anything but that for the rest of your life?"

He sends another shocked, wide-eyed look your way but you're surprised he doesn't realize how clear that is to read on him, how easily you figured it out really early in the course of your correspondence this past year. You tuck that away for another day and continue your answer to his question.

"I love both like that and, the way I see it, I'm lucky to be able to love more than one thing at a time. And because I do, they'll both always have a place in the future I want. So it's not really that I'm making a choice between one or the other, I'd be incapable of that. Volleyball will always be in my life, even if it isn't the same way it is now. It's just that I'll pursue writing as my vocation while continuing to enjoy volleyball however I can."

"So you won't go pro." He doesn't state it as a question but it sounds like there's still one in there somewhere.

"I don't think so. That's... a little more complicated."

He shifts to turn more towards you, pulling another piece of the cotton candy you're holding between the two of you and encouraging, "I've seen your videos, Y/n. You're as much, if not more, talented than either of your cousins."

You laugh again, "Aren't you a little biased, Oikawa?"

"Sure, but I'm still telling you the truth as I see it. You've already filled the gaps they lack as players, you almost seem to have none. You're part of the powerhouse teams in your region, even country. And you can only improve from there."

"Yeah. But it's not talent or skill or even anything about volleyball itself that makes me so sure about its role in my life."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I promise, I will another day. But I know it'll be a long discussion and I want to hear your answer."

"My answer?"

"Where you want to be after you graduate."

"Don't you already know?" His lips pull up into a confident smile, "Because you said it, Y/n-chan. I can't see myself doing anything but playing volleyball for my future."

"No matter how you get there?"

"No matter how I get there." He confirms, watching you with a tilt to his head, "But I will get there."

"Of that, I have no doubt. I've seen you play, too."

And like that, his smile twists into a satisfied smirk, "Just on video, huh? You still have to come to one of my games in person, though."

"Oh, I do, do I?" You're grinning as the two of you fall back into lighthearted teasing.

"Of course. I think there's still a thing or two I could teach you."

"I'm sure. Without a doubt."

By the time the boat reaches the end of its line, the cotton candy is completely gone, much like any space between you both. The two of you are just short of leaning into each other, your sides already pretty much pressed against each other for most of the fifteen minute ride, as you and Toru talked and joked about various things with only the blinking stars and swaying trees as your witnesses.

You take a deep breath in as your boat approaches the dock, starting to pull away from him slightly, but you also catch the now-familiar scent of some product Toru uses and it smells divine. It's the sort of scent that makes you want to lean into his chest or neck and just relax while he holds you.

Oh my god. You need to slap yourself. That was pathetic, right? And after just one romantic boat ride, holy shit. You still have another hour and a half to go unless you completely bail on him. And for what? Because you caught yourself slipping? Again?

Ugh. No. You're here to be a good friend. And okay, take it slow and see what else could be between the both of you. But that shit wasn't slow.

You've pulled away, physically and metaphorically, by the time your boat docks but you still accept his hand as he helps you off, blocking the attendant yet again. He doesn't pull away though and neither do you, so you're still holding hands as you and Toru walk to your next destination.

Just taking it slow. Right... Shit.

Turns out your next destination is the carousel. You two keep switching horses, messing around until you're politely removed. After which you hit up some of the rides like the one that spins really fast so that you're pressed back against the reclined wall, or the one where you sit in a claw that swings you up, down, around, etc.

Following that, it's mini coasters and then upgraded back to some of your favourite thrill coasters from earlier in the day. You tell him it's a completely different experience at night. After the first one, he agrees. So you two hit up four more.

By the time the two of you get off the last one, teasing and laughing about who was screaming louder (it was him, obviously), you only have a little over twenty minutes left before the park closes. So your hand finds Toru's, your fingers lacing together with ease and electric familiarity by now, and you pull him along in order to run back to the hotel through the remaining crowd.

"Why are we going back?" He's barely even out of breath as he easily catches up to race beside you, but you guess neither are you. Thank you, conditioning.

"It's a surprise!"

The concierge barely startles when he sees two teens just run through, raising his hand to call out before lowering it in defeat. You're already gone anyways. You reach the elevator bay and hit the button for your floor, thankfully the door to the middle one opens immediately with a smooth tone. When the two of you get in for the ride up to the top floor, the pace steadies and you're just looking at each other while you each catch your breath, then you burst out laughing again.

"Okay so you're still not going to tell me?" There's a little bit of mock attitude in his tone but it's washed away by his genuine smile.

"Just wait."

The elevator dings as it reaches your floor and you're pulling him out with the doors barely open. The two of you reach your room and you swipe the card over the lock, opening the door, pulling you both through and closing it in swift motions before letting go of his hand and running to the balcony.

"Come on!"

You look back to encourage him forward as you open the double doors and he strolls up to your side before you both step out together. Just as you reach the rail, faint music starts to drift up from the park's speakers, getting louder and louder until you can hear its strains clearly, playing the orchestral melody that indicates the park will be closing in fifteen minutes.

It's what you can see only from up here that you wanted to show him. Because with the music that plays, there are lights quite literally at every inch of the park that turn on in an incredible show.

Many people gather on the streets or at particular locations for the ground level view. But those are always crowded and honestly a pretty limited view of the show's true scale. It's the guests who have park facing rooms and know to stop for the view from their balconies at this time that experience the true and complete nature of the stunning spectacle.

"Wow." He barely says it, it's more like a word he releases with his breath, but you're so happy knowing you were right.

This is the perfect ending to an incredibly special day that deserves no less. You and Toru stand there, side by side for the full fifteen minutes, still under the carpet of stars that seem a little closer from up here. The two of you hold hands, arms and sides pressed against each other as you both lean on the balustrade and listen to the crescendos and decrescendos, glancing at each other with smiles and the occasional comment. Sometimes pointing to a corner or edge of the park laid out beneath you to pull the other's attention with a tug on your linked hands.

And when the music starts its final rise only to move into its final descent, you look instead at Toru and find him looking back at you. With your hands still linked, you lean into him further to place a soft kiss on his cheek, mirroring the one from a year ago, this on his other side. Then you lean back to look at his flustered but happy face with a soft smile and add your wish for him to your blessing-

"Happy Birthday, Toru."

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Masterlist

Behind The Scenes!

-ngl but that moment when Toru takes a seat in the boat was fully inspired by my memory of him at the Karasuno vs Shiratorizawa match, just after Iwa hops over the seat like wow, but then the way Oikawa stretches out from his previous position... just more wow. Sorry, I can't explain it. I love that scene (and the others with those two that follow) and I don't know if I'm the only one it stuck with like this...

A/N: Okay...time for the vent... I will be the first to say that I love Kuroo and Suna primarily, and both the Miyas are a close second.. but I DO NOT KNOW HOW OIKAWA KEEPS PULLING THIS ON ME like... this whole episode really got away from me again. I mean, I did like Oikawa as a close second to Kuroo (who's been my steady the whole time, js, it's unwavering) for a LONG time before being intro'd to Inarizaki but... then Suna just came in and turned my head until I was like.. Oikawa, who? But maybe this just goes deep, so I didn't know he was always still in there. He IS incredibly lovable after all, you can't change my mind about that, and I really respect him as a complex character and okay, yeah, I honestly can't remember who was my first between him and Kuroo at this point because I was simping for them both before I really even remembered their names (and was trying to avoid being teased by my bf for rewatching scenes with them since he had to bribe me to watch the show in the first place). Anyways, I don't know what I'm saying anymore since I desperately need to go to sleep, maybe for a whole day, so I hope you guys like this one! Because.. just, yeah. Toru <3 I guess

Taglist: @delusivist, @prettyinblack231, @kac-chowsballs, @sakusasimpbot, @hawkthekinnie, @poppi144

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your-ace-cousin-clover · 3 years

Note

ahhhh hi sorry for the LATE response, life's been kinda wild lately

anyway, i'm really glad you liked the poem & i don't mind you sharing it :)

(plus, a new prompt sounds nice)

(&btw, richard siken's new book is gonna be called "blue jupiters" (as far as i know copper canyon press will publish it))

also, happy you liked the recs! i found it cool how you said "the way god chooses to escape from his own reality through someone who does not believe enough in him to question him at first"! couldn't have put it better myself.

(sorry if this ask seems all over the place, i just have to get somewhere and i'm gonna be mad late - but i really want to finally send a response)

i enjoyed your recommendations a lot so let me elaborate real quick-

the problem with travel:

right off the bat, same.

traveling does always make me feel like i'm starting a new chapter and i should act accordingly.

love "kill the kid stuff, start to act my numbers" - the choice of words you use when writing is so important. (thats why i cant judge anyone who spends a long ass time on thesaurus! sometimes writing really does feel like looking through a lost & found or fishing the right word out of a goodwill bin! flipping through a magazine in search for the right word to cut out and stick on your collage!) imagine how substantially different the poem would sound if limon had written "start to act my age" instead of "start to act my numbers"

"[...] - we’re small

and flawed, but I want to be

who I am, going where

I’m going, all over again."

this^ part kills me in a good way

accident report in the tall, tall weeds:

"my ex got hit by a bus"

gets right to the point. kinda like a short story? an immediate jump into action

i might've said this before but i like it when poems tell stories (i mean i guess they all do, in a way, but i specifically mean the ones that have clear characters? if that makes sense)

"No tampering with the great universal brake wires."

ahhh yeah - when you feel like a thought can cause real life consequences

"When the plane went down in San Francisco,

I thought of my friend M. He’s obsessed with plane crashes.

He memorizes the wrecked metal details,

the clear cool skies cut by black scars of smoke.

Once, while driving, he told me about all the crashes:

The one in blue Kentucky, in yellow Iowa.

How people go on, and how people don’t.

It was almost a year before I learned

that his brother was a pilot.

I can’t help it,

I love the way men love."

^ don't you love it when a poem beats your heart to a pulp?

"What I saw in the men who came before,

sometimes I don’t want to say this out loud,

was someone I could hold up to my ear

and hear the ocean, something I could say my name into,

and have it returned in the inky waves."

self recognition through the other! yeah! sometimes people are people and sometimes people are mirrors and i know this wasn't her point but aren't we all just saying "hey! this is how i feel! do you feel like that too?" and sometimes "language is complicated but i think you know exactly what i mean and i know what you mean too!" and "when our experience overlaps the cosmic alone-ness becomes bearable!"

shit i'd love to drop another rec but i REALLY have to go now! hope to hear from you soon

-cat

Well, lmao Cat now, I'm the one who's late in replying, but yeah, I've been really busy. Now, I've got a bit of a time to reply to your ask.

First of all, "Don't You Wonder, Sometimes?" by Tracy Smith is a really interesting poem especially centred around Bowie. I love how the poet makes Bowie into a mythical being, like a sort of a spirit rather than a mortal man.

"Not God, exactly. More like-

Some thin-hipped glittering Bowie-being"

I love how the poem takes in the spirit of Bowie as something that will keep living on -

"Saying nothing is lost, that everything lives on waiting only

To be wanted back badly enough?

Bowie will never die. Nothing will come for him in his sleep

Or charging through his veins. And he’ll never grow old,"

It's just a beautiful way to think of the artist living on despite their death. They live through those they have touched with their art as well as their art themselves.

"In which I’m forever a child looking out my window at the night sky

Thinking one day I’ll touch the world with bare hands

Even if it burns."

And I just simply love these lines ^^^ . I love the poem touches up on reincarnation. It's interesting as it mentions how people are reincarnated a few times and then, they go to the beyond.

"And how many lives

Before take-off, before we find ourselves

Beyond ourselves, all glam-glow, all twinkle and gold?"

And finally, I love how the deification fo Bowie continues making him into a cryptid? That's the best way I can describe it honestly.

"When a man his size can meet

Your eyes for just a blip of time

And send a thought like SHINE

SHINE SHINE SHINE SHINE

Straight to your mind. Bowie,

I want to believe you."

(I followed your style of picking up lines and talking about them - it's a pretty fun thing to do)

{Purple happens to be my fav colour so, yeah I annotated with purple}

And yeah, language is funky like that. Honestly, I love the fact that people swap art with each and it's like every though we're different, you go through the same emotions. No matter whatever niche emotion is, someone has already written about it! If they haven't, you can always write it!

This reminded of a favourite poem of mine (tw : homophobia and sort of death ? though) which reminds me of the awkwardness of telling people I'm queer / coming out to them. It's called Three A.M. by Jill McDonough.

Also, I've been reading some more stuff to rec them and to hear your thoughts on them. It's all food - themed because I really got into food poetry last week. And as I was talking to a lovely mutual about the intimacy of cooking food and feeding someone.

I'd highly rec the movie "Big Eden". It's a wonderful gay rom-com movie with no homophobia at all and a lot of intimate cooking and wanting to make sure that your crush is loved and taken care off.

But anyway -

Having a Coke with You by Frank O'Hara

Perhaps the World Ends Here by Joy Harjo

The Orange by Wendy Cope

For Grace, After A Party by Frank O'Hara

Eating Together by Li-Young Lee

And these two posts are where I got these poems from, so perhaps you could read the other ones in the list.

Food Poems 1

Food Poems 2

And also, you're into Succession! Yay!! Are you into Tomgreg? If you're not, that's chill. But, like more Tomgreg people the better. I'd love to hear your thoughts about the show too! :) And like I said before, I really enjoyed your Kendall edit! Did you get a chance to watch my Tomgreg edit? It's called Don't Blame Me, I put it on my Tumblr. (No pressure if you can't)

And I have to ask, because I forgot, what are your pronouns, Cat? I use she/they. I just wanted to ask what you want me to use while referring to you. And let me know if you wanna do another poetry writing swap again.

Anyway, that's it for now! Let me know what you think! I hope to hear from you soon :)

#Cat Anon #Succession #Poetry #Clover speaks #Food

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treya-barton · 4 years

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Hello there!! I'm here with a Promptis prompt ❤️ I'd love to see something sweet and fluffy. How about the first time either one of them realizes they are in love with the other?

Sorry this took so long to write! I had somehow missed the ask at first and then when I noticed it I had other projects going on and then struggled to come up with a good idea. This idea ended up not being all that fluffy but there are definitely some sweet moments and hopefully you will still enjoy it!

“Hey there, Prince Noctis.”

The words still rang in Noctis’s head. He lay sprawled on his bed after his first day in high school which had been followed by his typical princely lessons and a training session with Gladio. Yet, he didn’t feel as tired as he usually did. Instead, while he was physically tired from sparring, he felt more awake and alert than he typically did day to day. And he knew exactly who he could attribute it to.

“I’m Prompto! Nice to meet you!”

Prompto. Like Noctis didn’t already know who he was. As he had immediately called out right afterward. Prompto had been in his class in middle school. He had always stood out to Noctis because just like him he always seemed like a quiet loner. He couldn’t remember Prompto hanging out with the other kids in class, and he always seemed to go straight home after school. The other thing that stood out is unlike the other students in class who either whispered about him behind his back or when they actually approached him it was only to ask questions about being a prince, Prompto always looked like he wanted to speak to him but couldn’t bring himself to. In retrospect, especially after the experience he had today, Noctis wish he would have. Or that he had gone out on a limb and approached Prompto instead. Because unlike all of his other classmates, Prompto seemed to genuinely want to know him – Noctis. And he had never experienced that before.

Even with Ignis and Gladio who knew the real him there was always a stopping point. Ignis was his Chamberlain and Gladio was his Shield so no matter how close they were at certain times there was always that underlying distinction. But today, even though it was only for a brief moment, he had been able to forget that. All because Prompto had approached him, slapping him on the back like they were old friends. Noctis had returned the gesture and somehow knew in that moment things would never be the same.

“Don’t I know you?”

Prompto flushed as he buried his face in his pillow. He didn’t know how he had managed to carry on past that embarrassing moment or how he had even found the courage to introduce himself in the first place. After so many attempts where he had chickened out in middle school, he had surprised himself that morning by finally carrying through with the plan. After introducing himself, Noctis’s eyes had scanned his body, before recognition had hit and he had bluntly called Prompto out on his half fib. Half because while they had been classmates, they had only spoken directly one time, the moment where Noctis had told him he was heavy and fully mortified him.

Prompto looked over at his desk drawer that still contained the letter from Lady Lunafreya, the letter that had been his strength to carry through with his plan. Noctis had always seemed as lonely as he was, even when surrounded by their classmates bombarding him with questions about living in the palace. Even before he had received the letter, with Lady Lunafreya subtly encouraging him to befriend the prince, Prompto had noticed that Noctis seemed to be a kindred spirit. The prince never seemed to talk to anyone on his own free will and always stayed to himself until getting picked up from school; Prompto remembered finding it sad how the prince could be in the same situation he was.

But now, with an act of courage, he had changed all of that. Upon getting to know him that day, Prompto realized that Noctis was just as blunt as he had been the first time they spoke, although it was more due to being awkward from his upbringing than due to any malice. He also had the same tastes in videogames that Prompto did and was pretty relaxed which Prompto hadn’t expected. He had just allowed himself to be dragged along by Prompto’s whims the whole day, and he hadn’t seemed to mind the bubbly, nervous energy Prompto had adopted after he had learned to be more friendly and to talk to people. He wondered if Noctis had been surprised by that change, so different from the person he had been in middle school, but the prince hadn’t mentioned it nor seemed to mind. Prompto looked over at the pictures lined up on his closet door, outlining the changes he had been making since middle school, and he couldn’t help but let out a smile. His hard work had really paid off.

Noctis was irritated and he couldn’t quite place his finger on why. He and Prompto were hanging out at his apartment, Noctis needing to hide away after his engagement with Lunafreya had been publicly announced. Prompto had come over to keep him company, and usually that was enough to cheer him up but today it only seemed to sour his mood further. Prompto seemed to have noticed and had fallen silent, stealing glances at him while he pretended to be invested in his phone. “What,” Noctis finally asked.

“Huh?” Prompto asked, eyes darting at him over his phone before quickly looking away as he saw Noctis’s pointed glare. “I don’t get what you mean, dude.”

“If you want to say something, just say it,” Noctis replied, his normal patience with his best friend completely gone. He didn’t know why he was so irritated – it wasn’t like it was Prompto’s fault that due to his duty to the Crown he had no say in many of his life’s choices including who he was going to marry. It’s not that Noctis didn’t like Luna – she was someone he had always relied on for advice and he cared greatly about her. But something about the treaty just didn’t seem right, and he didn’t like that his father was sending him away when his health was in decline. Noctis clenched his jaw, then looked back at Prompto and noticed that the blond had his arms crossed over his chest while he was staring down at the ground. Prompto rarely ever showed this side to himself – he put on a friendly façade even when he was feeling down – so it surprised him to see him openly appearing hurt. Noctis felt some of his patience return along with his guilt.

“Hey, Prom, I’m sorry,” Noctis said, reaching out an placing a hand on Prompto’s shoulder. “I’m just feeling irritated today. I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”

Prompto let out a sigh before turning to face him. “Wanna talk about it?” he finally asked, blue violet eyes boring into his. Noctis bit his lip.

“What’s there to talk about? Everyone’s ecstatic,” he said. “Even you…” Noctis finally cut himself off, blinking in surprise by his bitter words. When he had found out about the engagement, he had told Prompto about it afterward and his best friend had seemed happy for him. In Prompto’s defense, he had been witness to Noctis’s journal exchange with the oracle and seemed to be convinced Noctis had a crush on her. That certainly may have been true when Noctis had been a child, but now… Noctis’s cheeks suddenly flushed with realization, and he let out a groan before covering his face.

“Whoah, Noct, you ok buddy?” Prompto asked. “Also, even me what?”

“Can we talk about something else,” Noctis asked, suddenly embarrassed. He understood why he was so annoyed – he was mad that Prompto seemed happy about his engagement to Lunafreya. It didn’t really matter what the news articles said or even that it was his duty – the only opinion that really mattered was Prompto’s, and Noctis was beginning to realize that maybe he had wanted Prompto to be upset, jealous even.

‘Shit,’ Noctis thought. It wasn’t like even if Prompto was jealous there was anything that could be done, so it made sense for his best friend to show his support and be happy for him. Noctis glanced out at him from between his fingers as he thought through Prompto’s reaction to the news. He had seemed happy for him and had immediately started teasing him about his crush, but if Noctis was remembering correctly there had been a tiny, brief moment that had flickered across his face that almost seemed resigned. Pairing that with how Prompto had appeared just a moment ago and maybe, just maybe Prompto wasn’t as excited about the news as he acted. Noctis’s relief was bittersweet, since he had discovered his feelings for his best friend far too late to do anything about it. ‘Figures,’ he thought, as Prompto tentatively switched topics to the upcoming event scheduled in king’s knight that would be starting right around the time they started their road trip.

“We should have plenty of time to play in the car!” he said, and Noctis finally felt his mood begin to improve. That was right, he would have the trip to Altissia with his best friends prior to his whole life changing to look forward to. It would only be a brief moment, but he would cherish it for the rest of his life.

Prompto felt thoroughly embarrassed. Not that it was anything new. He had asked Noctis to join him so he could secretly snap a photo of Cindy working at the garage in Hammerhead and they had been caught in the act. Noctis had helped him play it off and had even managed to finagle a picture of the two of them together; it was moments like that which reminded Prompto that hey, Noctis really was king of Insomnia and would do a great job one day. Once they resolved the current predicament they were in, that is. “My hero, Noct,” Prompto whispered to himself as he looked at the photo Noctis had taken for him. It had come out looking really good – Noctis must be paying attention during some of his moments rambling about photography.

Prompto flipped through his camera until he found one of the many selfies he and Noctis had taken together. He stared at it quietly for several long moments before letting out a deep sigh and setting his camera down. Prompto was in one hell of a dilemma. On the one hand, Insomnia had fallen and right now – more than ever – Noctis needed him as his best friend. It was a role Prompto filled willingly – he would always be there for Noctis and knew how much he relied on his support. But at the same time, deep down, buried in Prompto’s most selfish desires that he would never tell anyone…he couldn’t help but feel just the tiniest bit grateful for his current situation. Because with the fall of Insomnia, there no longer was a point to Noctis’s engagement to Lunafreya. The treaty had been a ploy by Niflheim to get Regis to drop his guard and had led to the fall of Insomnia, the death of Noctis’ and Gladio’s fathers, and more than likely the death of Prompto’s own parents who he hadn’t heard from since Insomnia was attacked.

Obviously, Prompto would trade it all back if it meant Insomnia was safe and all the people who had died could be brought back. He would have definitely preferred watching while his heart broke as his best friend – the person he had fallen in love with at some point in their friendship without being able to remember the exact moment when it had happened – married the person he had looked up to his whole life instead. Prompto used to think Noctis had feelings for Lady Lunafreya, but little moments like their conversation after the engagement was announced had made him wonder otherwise. A part of him wanted to know what Noctis would have said after his “Even you” but he had clammed up afterward, and Prompto had helpfully changed the subject to spare his best friend an awkward conversation.

But then things like today would happen where Noctis would support his crush on Cindy, and Prompto would wonder if it was all just wishful thinking. Cindy was certainly attractive, and Prompto couldn’t help but admire her focus and dedication to her work, but half of his admiration for her had been an act to cover his heartbreak after Noctis’s announced engagement. And even though that was no longer going to happen, it wasn’t like Prompto could suddenly turn it off when it was expected at this point. Prompto flushed in embarrassment as he thought back to his true intentions that morning. He had expected to snap the photo and then spend the rest of the morning taking pictures of Noctis, enjoying a quiet morning with his best friend until they had been surprised by Cindy’s interruption.

‘This isn’t the time to be moping,’ Prompto reminded himself. They had a mission to save Lucis – that was far more important than Prompto’s conflicted feelings over his best friend and king. Prompto slapped his cheeks a few times, just as he used to in middle school before his runs, and picked up his camera before heading out from the camp to see what his companions were up to. They would be leaving soon for the next leg of their trip and he was sure Iggy or Gladio could use some help packing.

It wasn’t fair. After all the loss Noctis had experienced on his journey, all the pain he had been through, once he had finally reunited with his friends and once again strengthened their bonds of brotherhood, he had fallen for Ardyn’s trap yet again and had been sucked into the crystal in order to fulfill his destiny as the King of Light. He had finally been at a place, after everything had happened, after nearly losing the person he cared most about, to be honest with him and bare his feelings to him. There had been no obstacles left to hold them apart anymore and now the new obstacle was one he could not overcome. He was destined to die in order to save the world.

As Noctis floated about in the space enclosed in the Crystal, learning about his destiny as his body slowly absorbed the crystal’s power so he would be strong enough to make his last stand, he suddenly wished he could turn back time and do things differently. He wished he could have been honest to Prompto about his feelings and let him know that he knew Prompto’s crush on Cindy was all for show, that he knew he had been jealous over his engagement but had held his feelings in check for his sake. Holding back for the sake of the failed engagement, then until he could talk to Lunafreya face to face to let her know his feelings first until her death made it a wasted effort, then feeling hurt and bitter after losing another person he cared about and wasting the opportunity again when he was tricked into pushing Prompto off the train, nearly losing him forever. What had been the point of it all? If he had just been honest, they would have been able to spend a few stolen, happy moments together. It would have been something he would have cherished until the very end.

Once Noctis finally was released from the crystal and made his way back to Hammerhead, reuniting with his friends in a bittersweet moment, he considered using his final moments to confess to his best friend how he had been in love with him, probably from that moment Prompto had first called out his name. However, he didn’t want to leave Prompto with that burden, not here at the end. Not when he would be leaving him for good this time. Yet, somehow, just like at that moment in high school all those years ago, Prompto seemed to have the courage he did not have.

“Hey Noct, can I talk to you for a moment?” Prompto looked like he had something on his mind. This Prompto was more serious than the one Noctis was used to, and not for the first time he wondered what his friends had been through during his 10 year absence. The dark circles under Prompto’s eyes and the weariness that seemed ingrained in his face, unable to be completely hidden by his warm smile, told him all he needed to know.

“Of course. What’s up?” Noctis asked. They moved away to a quiet corner amidst the car parts strewn in the cramped space of the fenced in rest stop; there weren’t very many places where they could truly get a moment to themselves due to how small the safe area was and how many hunters took shelter there between jobs.

Prompto fiddled with one of the pieces of scrap metal for a moment before setting it down. “This may come as a surprise and honestly it’s probably not the time for me to be saying this but…I figure at this point I’m pretty much out of chances.” Prompto took a deep breath and then released it. “I love you, Noct. Have been in love with you for quite a long time. I don’t know when it started, but I know I realized it the day you told me you were getting engaged, and I thought my world was crashing down. This may be selfish of me to do when you don’t have a lot of time left but…” Before he could finish, Noctis had thrown his arms around him before squeezing tight.

“You are the least selfish person I know,” Noctis assured him. “Shit, Prom.” Noctis’s voice was trembling, and as Prompto’s shock wore off and he wrapped his arms around Noctis as well, he could feel how the king’s heart was racing where it pressed against his chest. “I love you too. I think from the very moment you greeted me like we had been friends forever. You were the only person who wanted to know me and not the prince or the king or the king of light and for that you will always be precious to me.”

Prompto wrapped one arm around Noctis’s head and gently patted him on the back as he felt his best friend cling to him. “We should have done this a long time ago, huh?” he asked, and Noctis snorted into his shoulder.

“You think?” he asked, before tilting his head to look at him. Prompto flashed him an apologetic smile before they leaned forward for what they both assumed was their first – and their last – kiss.

It really was a gorgeous sunrise. If Prompto had his camera with him, he would have snapped a picture in order to commemorate the sacrifice the love of his life had made in order to allow it to happen. Instead, he did his best to ingrain it in his memory, taking in the feeling of the warmth on his skin, something he hadn’t felt in ages, the glow of the light as it reflected on the ruins of Insomnia, causing the broken class to glitter in the city like tiny jewels. ‘I wish you could see this,’ Prompto thought, hand clutching the photo Noctis had chosen to take with him to his final moments, that same selfie Prompto had looked back on all those years ago. They had both looked so happy as they had been goofing off together, and now…

The photo had slipped from Noctis’s fingers where he sat sprawled out on what would have been his throne, the citadel a shambled mess from where it had been ransacked during the fall on Insomnia. After Gladio and Ignis had confirmed the death of their king, Prompto had picked up the photo before stepping outside to mourn. Gladio and Ignis let him; Gladio had seen what photo Noctis had chosen to take with him and had gauged that something had changed in their relationship. Ignis had guessed just based on the change in inflection in their tone during those final hours together. Suddenly, the early morning quiet was broken by Gladio’s shout. “Prompto! Hey, Prompto, come and see this!”

Prompto sighed, tearing his eyes away from the sunrise before making his way back to the throne room. “What is it?” he asked, before his eyes fell on the throne. Noctis was no longer slumped over – in fact he was standing upright while leaning heavily against Ignis. Ignis, who hardly ever seemed to get flustered, had tears rolling down his face while Gladio was grinning widely at him. “Noct?” Prompto said, his voice coming out at a whisper. “Is it really you?”

“I would sure hope so – I feel sore as hell,” Noctis grumbled in response. “What are you doing standing at the door? And do you know where my photo went?”

Prompto grinned widely; if Noctis was complaining then he really was ok. “I have it,” he said, before rushing in the room. “I’ve got you buddy,” he added, moving to Noctis’s other side so he could also help steady him. If Prompto’s arm around Noctis’s shoulder was a little tight, and if Noctis’s hold on Prompto’s jacket was clinging, no one said anything. To both of their surprise, Gladio then swooped them all into a group hug, which they gladly joined in on. They weren’t sure why Noctis had been granted a second chance at life, but they weren’t going to trade it in for the world.

Several days later, it was again early morning. Noctis woke up to the soft clicking sound that meant Prompto was scrolling through the pictures on his camera. He slid open one eye and yawned as he turned to face him, smiling at how after only a few days of peace and having Noctis back in his life, Prompto was slowly losing the dark circles under his eyes and regaining some of his old enthusiasm. The weariness was still there, and some of it may always be there, but Noctis would do all he could to lessen it every day. “What are you looking at?” he asked.

“Some of the old photos of us,” Prompto replied. “Just reflecting on the past I guess.” He then lifted up his camera and took a snapshot of Noctis gazing up at him sleepily with his hair sprawled on his pillow.

“No fair,” Noctis grumbled. “I wasn’t ready.”

Prompto let out a chuckle. “Want to take one together?” he asked. Prompto had almost completely stopped taking photos during the 10 years Noctis was gone – there were a few pictures here and there but for the most part that time period was undocumented as people were more focused on survival and holding out for his return. Thus, seeing him enthusiastically pick up his hobby again warmed Noctis’s heart. Besides that, it wasn’t like he could ever deny Prompto anything. Certainly not ever again.

Noctis scooted closer to Prompto, pulling his boyfriend against him so Prompto would be able to get a good close up shot. Just as Prompto was about to hit the button to take the photo, Noctis turned his head and pressed a kiss to Prompto’s cheek, causing his boyfriend to squawk in surprise. “Noct!” he whined, and the king chuckled in response.

“This is why you keep getting called a chocobo,” he teased, nuzzling at Prompto’s hair. Without the hair gel it didn’t look quite as much like chocobo tail feathers, but it was still close enough.

Prompto set down his camera on the side table before pulling Noctis into his arms. He knew how much he liked to cuddle in the morning; even when their relationship had been platonic Noctis had been clingy in the morning. “You happen to like chocobos,” Prompto replied, and Noctis couldn’t help but let out a snort. He may like chocobos but it was nothing compared to Prompto’s adoration for them.

“I like you more,” Noctis replied, and Prompto flushed before pulling Noctis even closer to try to hide his face. Noctis grinned before snuggling closer, appreciating the opportunity. He had fully given up hope that this day would come, and now that he had Prompto to himself he was going to cherish his time with him every moment he got. He couldn’t help but feel like it was somehow his father and Lunafreya’s doing, and he wouldn’t let his chance go to waste. “I love you, Prompto,” Noctis said quietly, and Prompto squeezed his arms around him to show he had heard him.

“I love you too, Noctis,” he replied, voice fond. Noctis smiled before sliding his eyes closed again, deciding they could stay in bed together just a little bit longer. Prompto chuckled quietly but didn’t stop him – he always had spoiled Noctis, hadn’t he? Thus, both men stayed thus entwined for most of the morning, reluctant to part and appreciating a quiet morning together.

#ffxv #ffxv fanfiction #Promptis #Noctis x Prompto #Noctis Lucis Caelum #Prompto Argentum

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theclaravoyant · 7 years

Note

also okay - if you're ever wanting to write more in the trans!fitz universe, i'd absolutely love to see a fic where someone on the team learns what 'nonbinary' is and decides they might be nb, and come talk to fitz about it! :) and maybe talk about fitz's experiences being trans and his view of gender and stuff like that

AN ~ awesome prompt! It was a lot of fun exploring nonbinary-ness and different experiences of gender (which is probably why this almost hit 2K!).

Disclaimer: I’m a cis woman, but I based what Fitz talks about on experiences of several trans and non binary people (from these sources as well as past research, friends, tumblr posts, etc.). I hope I have done the topic some justice!

For those not familiar with my trans!fitz universe, this fic takes place in the Bridget!verse where Fitz transitioned (FTM) from a young age. He is out only to a few select people as trans, and prefers it that way, although this fic also allows for him to be more out re: his sexuality (which is not specified in this fic, but implied to be non-straight).

As for who he’s talking to… I know they’re not part of “the team” exactly but I couldn’t resist using this opportunity to write about everyone’s favourite nb lesbian, Agent Piper!

Anyway, without further ado-

Read on AO3 (~2000wd)

Piper

Pride season was an opportunity for a splash of colour in the increasingly gloomy lives of Shield’s now-underground team. The younger Agents especially filled the base with life and vibrancy while the older ones, for whom Pride was much if not more a commemoration than a festivity, provided strength and fortitude, serving as living reminders of a whole range of struggles that could affect an Agent, and a whole range of ways of being a survivor. Pride was a light in the darkness not unlike the end of year holiday season, if directed at a smaller cohort.

Tonight, many of the Agents were preparing to drive out to a Pride Parade in a nearby city, and were donning all manner of bright colours and some of them even preparing spectacular outfits for a night on the town. Daisy had on a hot-pink sundress with platform sandals and chunky jewellery in blue, purple and silver. Jemma went for a look that somehow managed to be more subdued, in a bright canary-yellow t-shirt and black jeans, with a pink bandana tied around her neck. Fitz was stuck in his room trying to figure out what to wear that was different, but that didn’t scream a Pride flag vomited all over me, when he heard a knock at the door.

“Oh, thank God,” he sighed. “Jemma, I-“

Fitz cut himself off when he pulled the door open and saw not Jemma, but the shorter, stockier, also somewhat-bewildered-looking Agent Piper waiting for him. She was still wearing fatigues, not yet prepared for the evening’s outing, and her expression was a little too serious for Fitz’s liking.

“Um. Hi,” Fitz greeted after a moment. “Can I help you? Is something going on?”

He stuck his head further into the hallway, but Piper shook her head before he could work himself into too much of a panic.

“Nothing, it’s all good out here, I was actually wondering if I could – maybe – have a private conversation with you.”

“Okay. Sure.” Still a little unsettled, Fitz invited Piper into his and Jemma’s room. He waved a hand apologetically at the suit-jackets, feather boa, dresses, heels, and button-ups that had sprawled across the room during their preparations, but Piper seemed content to ignore them even as her eyes cast about the room a little, not quite sure how to broach the subject she’d come here to speak about.

“Sorry,” she said eventually, bringing her eyes back to Fitz as she seemed to remember she was prying in a private space. “It’s just, I know you’re not really out with it and I didn’t want to be creepy. I wanted to talk about… gender. I’ve been thinking about some stuff and Jemma sort of mentioned that you might be someone who knows something about it. If you’re not comfortable with talking to me you can send me on my way and I won’t breathe a word of it – I know how it is – but it’d be really cool if you could help me out, man.”

Fitz shrugged. “It’s alright.”

“You sure?”

“Sure.” He smiled. “Happy to help out if I can.”

“Awesome.” Piper sighed, and a lot of the tension left her body. For want of a better place to plant herself, she perched on the corner of a desk.

Fitz sat nearby, in a clear space at the edge of the bed, and waited for Piper to gather her thoughts. He hoped she wouldn’t ask too much about him. Then again, he hoped she would. If it would help. If it would maybe mean he was sharing something of himself with someone who might get it in a way that the others didn’t. He wondered what she would ask. What was questioning even like? What was it like not to wake up and know? Of course, he’d been through his own questioning period, but most of that had been forced upon him, particularly by his father’s efforts to reshape him. Inside Piper’s head, Fitz knew, there could be a whole different set of sensations going on. Legitimate questions. Questions in which politics and oppression only played a part. Questions that could be daunting, and probably moreso to a thirty-year-old mind than to a seven-year-old, who didn’t yet understand so much about the weight of the world.

“Want me to start?” Fitz offered. Piper groaned.

“God, please.”

“Do you think you’re a man?”

Piper recoiled from the suggestion, but quickly recovered.

“Sorry. But no. I don’t think so – it feels wrong. It’s just that… I’m not really sure I’m a woman either. Does that make sense? Is that possible? I mean, I’ve always been a bit of a tomboy but like… recently, it feels different somehow. It’s difficult to describe. Maybe I’m just being weird, but to be honest, it’s kind of freaking me out. I thought I’d already done the whole identity-crisis thing, you know?”

Fitz laughed a little. He could relate.

“There’s no need for a crisis. You’ll figure it out eventually. And believe me, I get the double-take. Identity is an ever-changing beast.”

“How was it for you, though?” Piper wondered. “The gender thing I mean. How did you know?”

“I don’t think I can really help you with that one, unfortunately. I’m one of those people who just always, sort of, knew. I’ve known since I was a kid. I don’t really know why. Some of it was the obvious I guess. I played with model trains and cars instead of dolls. I hated wearing dresses. Tried to cut off all my hair with scissors. I wanted a pee-pee.” He snorted. “Seven-year-old me didn’t really get into the philosophy of it all, but there must be something to it, because… well, let’s just say I went through some things that would have chased it out of me if that were possible.”

Piper nodded solemnly.

“Not all the confusion is bad though,” Fitz continued. “My mum raised me, mostly, and she did it without a lot of that masculine bravado bullshit. She taught me to be gentle, sensitive, forgiving… sometimes it felt like I was less of a guy because of that kind of stuff, and the teasing didn’t help, but in the end it gave me faith in my identity. Mum always told me there should be more guys like me. That it shouldn’t be left to the girls to be the soft ones.“

“I like your mom,” Piper put in.

“Me too.” Fitz smiled. “And honestly I think having someone who believed in me like that made it all so much easier, even though she didn’t get it entirely. She started calling me by the right pronouns – you know, he and him and all that - and even gave me a different name. Helped me transition in lots of other ways, too. I couldn’t have done it without her.”

“Oh, I don’t want to transition, either,” Piper clarified. “I’m happy with my body just the way it is. Is that – I mean, does that mean anything?”

“Not really,” Fitz explained. “I mean, for me it did. I had… I had dysphoria in a big way. Phantom body parts. Huge discomfort about my dead name and pronouns. Not every trans person gets that. Some have it the other way, actually. Euphoria, it’s called. They just feel more happy when they express as their gender, or when they’re referred to by some other name or pronouns or, you know, gendered words, even if they’re not particularly unhappy with their assigned ones.”

“See, that sounds more like me,” Piper agreed. “But can you be, like, gender-neutral trans? Or is that a different thing, I don’t know. But can you?”

“You mean like nonbinary?” Fitz suggested. “Some people think of it as trans and some don’t, but yeah, sure. It’s a thing.”

“It means you’re like, somewhere between a boy and a girl, right?” Piper speculated. “Like on the spectrum.”

“Basically,” Fitz agreed. “I mean, for some people it’s more complicated than that, and just like with sexual orientation there’s a whole bunch of subsets. Some people like the spectrum, some people go with a third non-spectrum gender, some people even prefer no gender at all. It’s up to you. I can’t really tell you which one to pick, unfortunately – I mean as far as I’m aware, we as a scientific community still don’t know what gender even is yet – but if you’re feeling like nonbinary’s an option for you, try it out. There’s no harm in a label if you’re safe and happy with it. And even if it doesn’t work out, it’s not like you’re getting in anyone’s way.”

“Really?” Piper checked. “You think I should go for it?”

Fitz held his hands up, palms out. “You don’t need my permission.”

“Can I keep my name?”

“Sure, if you’re happy with it.”

“What about that pronoun stuff?”

“Well, if it bothers you when people call you she/her, tell them so. If not, you can keep them and still be non-binary. It depends on you. If you’re looking for a more neutral pronoun, ‘they’ is getting pretty popular, relatively. There are some more obscure ones around, so Google it maybe, but if it’s not a strong point of contention for you, or none of the others really speak to you, you could try they/theirs.”

“You’re right, that does sound better,” Piper agreed, a smile breaking out across her face at last. “Thanks so much, Fitz, honestly. I feel like I’ve lined up so many things in my brain right now.”

“My pleasure.” Fitz found himself beaming too, unexpectedly broadly. He kicked his legs in glee. “Glad I could help.”

“Wait.” Piper interrupted, her tone heavier again all of a sudden and, if Fitz was not mistaken, tainted with dread. “Can I still be a lesbian, then?”

Fitz’s excitement faded a little too. With the weight Piper put on it, he could tell, this part of her identity was important to her. Painstakingly so. Handling it with care was essential, and yet, he had to walk blindly into it and do the best he could.

“Well, I don’t know,” he offered truthfully. “If someone else, if another lesbian, came to you with something like this, what would you say, d’you think?”

Piper’s eyes searched the floor, the carpet, the nose of Fitz’s dress shoes poking out from under one of Jemma’s discarded dresses. She took a deep breath.

“Well, I’m sure as hell not a man. And even if I’m not a woman exactly, I still feel pretty close to it. I’d like to think I’m enough of a woman to be a lesbian still.”

“Then there you have it, I guess. Maybe talk to the girls, they might have more to say about it, but I think that’s fair enough.”

“Cool.” Piper nodded once, and then twice more for good measure as she let it all settle in. Her eyes trailed the mess that was FitzSimmons’ room and, as the mess in her own head cleared away, she remembered why it was all there.

“Shit, we’d better get ready, hey?” she reminded Fitz. He escorted her to the door, as best he could through the widespread pig-sty.

“Again, thanks so much for the talk,” Piper continued. “It was really great. Really helpful. If you don’t mind though, can we keep it on the DL for now? Sprinkle a couple ‘they’s here and there if you could, but the other stuff, I’m still easing into it.”

“No worries,” Fitz promised. “And you know, my stuff –“

“Lock and key,” Piper promised in return. “See you tonight.”

“See you there.”

#leo fitz #agent piper #aospositivitynet #aosfic #bsquadbrigade #aosficnet2 #happy pride!#piper #piper vasquez #trans!fitz #prompt me stuff #clara's fic tag #buckysbears #aos fic

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nachtgraves · 7 years

Note

Hello! If you're still taking requests could you do 49 w/ jean/nino? I love that pairing and I'd like to see how you write them!

Hey!Jean/Nino .> I have a problem. I haven’t seen any of itsince the anime ended though and rewatching it is my reward for catching up onall the shit I have on hold so I hope I did them justice for my first timewriting them (:

Title: HomeSmells of Cigarette Smoke and Bread // AO3WordCount: 3,280Warnings/Tags: G/PG. post-ep12, time skip, nino deserves all the love, pining. I have a headcannon whereLotta likes to play matchmaker.Prompt: Coming home

Jean’sbeen away for about two weeks now.

It’sone of the longest trips he’s been on, and while he’s called Lotta most nights,he’s often exhausted and barely there. Lotta sends him off to bed or to take amuch needed nap. Nino’s been privy to Lotta’s concerned complaints; he himselfhas received a few texts and calls, though most have been requests to keep theyounger Otus company and watch out for her (in her borderline obsessivelyprotective older brother’s place). But there are times where Jean’s calls andmessages are personalized for Nino, and it’s all Nino can ask that Jean spendthose few minutes of his free time on him, instead of on Lotta or resting up.

It’scoming onto day 16 of Jean’s ambiguous and lengthy business trip and Nino ishousesitting for the Otus siblings. Lotta’s gone to Dowa to see Prince Schwanand her grandfather, who’s been kicking stronger than anyone had thought, butillness is always a cause for concern. She was in a rush to leave and Nino wasmore than happy to be called last minute to take care of things in both her andher brother’s absence.

Themain reason for his employment as a house-sitter is Lotta’s new hobby. In therecent weeks she’s picked up gardening, and Nino is more than adept enough atwatering plants on a schedule. Besides, watching over things is something he’snot a stranger to. Since the attempted coup and Furawau’s secession from theDowa Kingdom, Nino’s had some time on his hands, even with his new job at asmall newspaper company. In those early weeks, up to the recent months, he hadn’tbeen too sure of his place in Bādon, or his place with the Otus siblings.

Ninolays on the couch where he and Jean have fallen asleep a few too many timesafter nights of drinking and stares up at the ceiling. He could go back to hisown small apartment, but the Otus home has a warmth and comfort and something indistinguishablethat his apartment simply lacks. It’s a vague feeling he can’t place but itmakes him quite reluctant to leave.

Thinkingback, he remembers the days when he tried to stay away, remove himself fromJean and Lotta, and how miserably that failed within days. He recalls mopingabout in his apartment trying to convince himself to get rid of his copies ofOtus family photos, and the surprise of Jean knocking on his door and takinghim to the bar they frequented. Jean pointedly getting drunk without Nino’spersuasion and needing an escort home. Lotta’s remarks of missing seeing himaround after they put Jean to bed solidified Jean’s point and soothed thegrowing ache in Nino’s chest.

He’snot sure when, but at some point between the sun sinking between buildings andthe stars shining as bright as they can through city light pollution, he fellasleep. He awakes with a familiar crick of sleeping on a couch. The Otus couchis a very comfortable couch, but it is still not a bed. He very well could haveslept through the night, but he’s a light sleeper. No one was supposed to becoming home, but Nino recognizes the sound of a rattling door handle and amuffled curse.

Gettingup from the couch, Nino tiptoes through the dark and silent apartment, guidedonly by the city light filtering in through the windows. He searches out for aweapon of some sort on his way to the front door, but only finds some ofLotta’s cooking and pastry magazines. It’s as good as anything, so he rolls oneup as tight as he can and hides against the wall that turns into the entryway.Whoever was trying to get in seems to succeed just as Nino’s in position,substitute baseball bat ready in his hands and prepped for a swing. The lightfrom outside the apartment floods the entryway and a shadow stretches out, thehead coming to just in front of where Nino’s standing. He’s about to bringglossy paper to human skull, using the shortening shadow as a reference, whenthe intruder calls out: “Lotta?”

Ninoabruptly loosens his grip on the magazine, letting it unroll in his palm. Thelights flicker on and Jean stands, hand frozen on the light switch as he seesNino.

“Uh,hey. Wasn’t expecting you to come back tonight,” Nino laughs.

Jean’seyes scan Nino from head to toe, lingering on the loosely rolled magazinebefore meeting Nino’s eyes with a questioning frown.

Ninoshrugs. “I fell asleep on the couch and woke up to you coming in – thought itwas a burglar.”

“Soyou grabbed one of Lotta’s magazines.” Jean’s mouth quirks slightly and Nino canonly smile helplessly back.

Jeanmoves from the light switch and Nino follows after him into the living room.Jean drops his travel bag by the coffee table and collapses onto the couch witha heavy sigh. Nino leans against the wall and watches. He’s so used to watchingJean. It’s habit to catalogue every twitch in the blond’s expression and heknows every detail of Jean’s routine movements. He’s familiar with the way Jeansprawls across his couch, head tilted back and arms draped along the backrest.The way he tugs his tie loose, blindly reaches for his cigarettes and lighter.The way his lips close around the stick and how smoke streams gently from hismouth in a relaxed sigh.

Jeanslides his gaze to where Nino’s standing. “Sit down, the couch doesn’t bite.”

“Lotta’sgoing to be mad at you for smoking in here,” Nino responds, but he takes a seatas told.

Jeanrolls his head so he’s got half his face smooshed against the couch but canlook at Nino easily. “Speaking of, where is she?”

Ninotilts his head in surprise. “Did you not know? Your grandfather’s sick and shewas worried so she flew over yesterday. She asked me to house and plant-sit,which is why I was here.”

Jeansits up, frown on his face. “Grandfather’s sick? He called me just a few daysago and seemed perfectly fine.”

Ninojust shrugs. “It’s what Lotta said when she called me, asking me to look overthe apartment while the both of you were gone. Wasn’t expecting you to be backso suddenly.”

“Itold Lotta I was coming back tonight or tomorrow morning though.” Jean’s lipsquirk even more downwards, perplexed. Nino’s just as confused for a momentbefore he remembers that nosiness and plotting behind peoples back for theirown perceived good is a Dowan royal family trait. He hopes his face is asimpassive as ever.

“Maybeshe forgot. In any case, I guess I’m off plant-sitting duties,” Nino says,trying to change the direction of the conversation, “I should head back, it’slate and I really didn’t mean to fall asleep here earlier.”

Jeanshakes his head. “You can spend the night. It’s not like you haven’t numeroustimes before.”

Thestatement is true, but Nino needs to remove himself from Jean’s presence. Lottaplotted to get them alone together for whatever reason but he is not about toruin something he’s already got too fragile of a hold on. He gets to his feetand waves Jean off.

“Yeah,but I have some work to do and all my material is at my apartment.”

Jeanstands as well and Nino’s halted by a firm grip around his lower arm. Nino wantsto pull away, but he also desperately wants to come closer. He settles for notmoving at all and staring at the point between Jean’s brows.

“Haveyou eaten?” Jean asks, his question abrupt and innocuous.

Ninoshakes his head. Jean smiles.

“Thenhave dinner with me. I don’t like eating alone.”

Ninoopens his mouth to refuse but he soon finds himself seated at the Otus kitchentable across from Jean with a plates of rice, pork, vegetables, and, of course,dinner rolls, laid out before them. Jean’s half-finished cigarette smotheredout in the ashtray leaving only a faint trail of smoke. He smiles. There’s norefusing an Otus.

“Whatare you smiling about?”

Jeanpoints his fork over at Nino. The blue haired man just shrugs and busieshimself with eating.

“Nino.”

Thetone and cadence almost resembles a whine and really, Nino’s never stood achance anyway.

“Justthinking,” he replies, and in an attempt to distract the vice-chairman of theinspection department, offers the last dinner roll and the tub of butter.

Jeantakes the offerings but Nino doesn’t get away scot-free.

“Careto share?”

“Howoften are you, or even Lotta, told ‘no’ in terms of getting what you want?”Nino returns.

Jeanpurses his lips in thought and Nino has to redirect his attention to the lastbits of his dinner. The blond eventually replies in slow and measured words asif he is still trying to think of a specific instance. “A fair amount,probably. No different than anyone else, I’d say.”

Ninocan’t stop the snort of amused disbelief that bubbles up his throat and out hisnose at that. He has to cover his mouth with his hand so he doesn’t spray foodeverywhere. When he looks up at Jean he has to consciously decide that theexpression on the blond’s face is categorically a frown and even though hismouth is stretched somewhat close together and forward and his bottom lip isjutting out the tiniest bit and his clear blue eyes that catch the flash of acamera like polished crystals are marginally wider—frowning. The unofficial prince is frowning.

“What?”Jean demands.

Ninoshakes his head and starts clearing up the table. If he doesn’t have to respondhe doesn’t have to attempt to deny Jean what he wants. But Jean, unusuallypersistent at the worst of times, follows after Nino with his own plate, adetermined shadow. Nino presses his lips together in a tight line to preventboth laughter and Jean’s answers.

Jeansighs in defeat and Nino lets a small smile of victory past his guard that Jeancatches, if the narrowed gaze is of any indication and pouting—frowning mouth. Nino really needs to goback to his apartment. He says as much to Jean once the last of the dishes areput away: “I should really go back to my apartment for whatever is left of thenight.”

Jean,leaning against the counter, fixes his gaze on Nino in the way that seems tofreeze all movement from the latter. The blue of his eyes and depth of hisstare fixing the object of the stare in place until the blond allows toindividual to move. Nino leans back against the counter, body twisted towardsJean and awaiting what he has to say.

“Youknow,” Jean starts, head tilting slightly. “You never call your apartment‘home’.”

Ninofrowns, confused by the way Jean has taken the conversation. He’s not sure whatthe blond’s point is and Jean can apparently tell. The blond’s mouth twitchesupwards at the corner he always gets food smeared around and has to lick atwith his tongue or dab at with a napkin. Nino finds it fortunate that Jean’snot as into creamy pastries as his sister and coworkers are.

“Younever refer to your apartment as ‘home’. It’s always ‘apartment’, ‘place’, oreven just bed.” Jean continues, andwhile Nino was distracted by Jean’s thin lips and subtle facial twitches, theblond had apparently come closer to the taller man.

“You’dalmost think that ‘home’ isn’t part of your vocabulary, but—” and now Jean isright in front of Nino, to the point Nino is teased by the warmth of Jean’sbody to the hint of tobacco and ash and smoke—“when you take me or Lotta backhere, you almost exclusively call this place home.”

Jeanstares up at him – those few centimeters Nino has above the blond seem tovanish – waiting for a response. Nino clears his throat and he would try tostep back and create more appropriate space between them, but he’s against thecounter and any movement away would be too obvious.

“Well,this is your home. What else would I call it?” he manages to respond.

Jeanseems to come even closer.

“You’reavoiding the question.”

“Younever asked one,” Nino says.

Hefeels victorious for a moment before Jean blinks and then releases a soft huh.

Jeancatches Nino’s gaze with his own. Nino can’t look away even though he knows hereally should find some sort of escape route. The situation was coming to asplit in the road where one path led onward, peaceful and uninterrupted,whereas the second path fell away into nothingness, the ground cracked andcrumbling and dead. Nino knows that this split is unavoidable in hisrelationship with the blond, that at some point in their time together this splitin the road was inevitable. He could only delay it for so long, and despite hiseffort it seems like he’s run out of back roads, scenic routes, and detours.

“Wellthen, here’s the implied question: why do you never refer to your apartment ashome?”

Withthe blond standing and staring unwaveringly in front of him, barely inchesbetween them, Nino can’t break eye-contact and any excuse or redirectiondisappears from the grasp of his heavy tongue like the wisps of smoke thatcling only as a vague olfactory presence to Jean’s clothes.

“Ihaven’t considered it to be a home for a while,” Nino answers, surprising himselfin the process.

Hedoesn’t know when, but it was likely after the death of his father and Jean andLotta’s parents, probably around when he realized his feelings for the olderOtus strayed from duty to friendship to more. It was a gradual thing, much likethe development of his feelings towards Jean, but also his sister. Nino first adoredher with a reverence brought on by her connection to beloved members of royalty.It was, and still is, impossible to not feel protective of and adoration forthe young princess. Nino’s feelings for the girl grew into a responsibility ofa familial, brotherly nature as his feelings for Jean grew romantic and wanting.

Jeanseems to be just as surprised with Nino’s abrupt concession. But he quicklysmiles and nods, as if he had already known the answer and was just waiting forNino to catch up. Nino wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.

“Well,since I know you’re lying about work, there really is no reason for you to notjust spend the night. We have the guest room…” The way Jean trails off impliesthat there’s something he wants to add or suggest. His gaze flickers down thehallway towards the bedrooms and Nino watches the subtle movement of Jean’sthroat as he swallows, preps his following words with a flick of tongue across thinlips.

Ninois almost afraid to ask but he can’t help himself. “Or…?”

“Mybed is big enough for two.”

Ninoisn’t sure if he hears Jean correctly, if his brain has warped the blond’swords to something that belongs in a fantastical, fictional world far removedfrom reality.

“Huh?”Nino so eloquently asks, or rather grunts. It’s really more of a vague sound ofsurprise and disbelief that changes pitch several times within the singlesyllable.

Jeangives Nino a knowing look. “Come to bed with me. Just to sleep.” He grins alittle and adds, “For now.”

Thefact that Jean’s face tinges pink even though Nino can tell the other man istrying to play cool makes him feel better about the fact his face is likelybright red and his dropped jaw is probably very stupid looking. His cool,badass biker image is in shattered pieces at Jean’s feet. But he doesn’t reallycare about it that much right now.

WhileNino still can’t quite regain control over his mouth and ability to speak – stillstunned into silence by Jean’s very blunt flirting, teasing? He hopes it’s theformer – he can nod and follow Jean into the blond’s bedroom, led by his wristin Jean’s firm grasp. Jean only lets him go to change into his pyjamas; a soft tee-shirtand a pair of flannel pyjama pants that are much too baggy on his slender framebut endears him to Nino that much more. With a quick, pointed look, Nino stripsdown to his boxers and pulls on a shirt Jean tosses him from his closet. Ninocan’t help but subtly lift the neck and take a quick sniff, and from the wayJean smirks even with pink cheeks as he crawls into the modestly sized bed, heknows that he was caught.

Hehesitates, but slides into the bed as well. Nino doesn’t know if he should turnhis back to Jean, but when Jean settles on his side facing Nino, he reaches upa hand and grabs at the collar of Nino’s borrowed shirt and tugs him down,deciding for the photographer.

Ninoisn’t sure if he was expecting the brief kiss or not. He’s been going onautopilot since Jean cornered him in the kitchen and his brain is only justcatching up.

Thekiss is brief enough that he almost thinks it didn’t happen, but the way hetries to follow Jean’s mouth after the blond pulls away says otherwise. Jeansmiles and leans back in for another kiss. This one, Nino can close his eyesand enjoy, simple and closed-mouth. He pulls back and lies down fully on thebed facing Jean.

“Wecan talk about this later if you want,” Jean tells him. “I’m exhausted andreally just want to sleep for a few hours.”

“Goodnight,” Nino says and Jean smiles at him before settling in and closing hiseyes, his breaths evening out surprisingly quickly. Nino feels a tug of guiltat keeping the blond awake for so long when he likely had wanted to immediatelyfall into bed upon returning. He can’t quite bring himself to completely regretthe events of the night, however.

Ninodoesn’t fall asleep for a while. He can barely process what’s happened since hewoke up from his accidental nap, much less how he’s ended up in this situation,this position. In Jean’s bed, next to the man himself who is out like a light,face soft and gentle in sleep, body warm and facing Nino. He settles onto hisside, arm bent under his head and lets his eyes drift shut, relaxed. Eachinhale fills his nose with soothing scents of laundry detergent mixed with ahint of salty sweat. Nino falls asleep, more content than he thinks he’s everbeen.

Inthe morning, Nino wakes up alone but the other side of the bed has stillretained some of the warmth from his missing bed partner. He pads out of Jean’sbedroom to see the man grabbing fresh toast from the toaster, one butteredslice already in his mouth and the remains of a cigarette burning out in theashtray on the kitchen table. He’s wearing his glasses, thick rimmed and rectangular,equal parts dorky and adorable.

“Morning,”Jean says when he notices Nino, mouth full of bread but smile still wide as itcan be. “What do you want for breakfast?”

Ninocomes closer and something in him settles at the scent of cigarette smoke andbread.

#ask #ninojean #nino #jean otus #acca 13-ku kansatsu-ka #anonymous #my writing #tumblr fic

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wordsonpages1-blog · 7 years

Note

Hiya! there are two missing scenes from Riverdale that I'd love fics for, if you wanted! After FP is arrested, the gang in the cafeteria say that the sheriff is interrogating Jughead (again); it would be great to see that happen. And another missing scene is with the social worker talking to Fred about Jughead, before the boys get home. it would be lovely if you were interested ? X

The In-between:

hey lovely, so I had a brain wave and managed to sit down and finish this for you tonight! I hope you like them and that this is kind of what you were looking for xx

“Jughead, thanks for coming in,” Sheriff Keller’s low voicecut through the stale air of the interrogation room.

The young Jones’ face twisted with cynicism as his liftedfrom where they rest glaring at the table.

“After the hospitality you showed me last time I was here Icouldn’t exactly stay away,” he returned dryly, his voice layered with sardonicdefences, his shoulders hunched and weary.

The Sheriff noted the red tired rims of his eyes. No sleep. Movingfurther into the room Keller paused to pull out the chair across from thebeanie wearing boy. The scrape of its legs scratched at the tense atmosphere. Hesighed as Jughead eyed him with venom. He knew coming in that he wouldn’t getmuch from the kid.

“Cut the crap son. I just want to ask you some questionsabout your dad.”

Jughead leaned back in his chair, arms moving to cross overhis chest. His smug attitude apparent in the quirked brow and dark smirk headorned. The Sheriff eyed him harshly, he didn’t care much for the kid’s snark,and though he suspected it was a defence mechanism it still ground down on hisnerves.

“I thought he already told you everything you needed toknow? Confessed right,” the boy shook his head the dark smirk still in place ashe let out a dangerous chuckle. “Case solved. Nice and neat just the way youwanted.”

Keller glared at him, hands coming out to rest on the tablepalms flat against the metal. Jughead noted the gesture, assertive, meant tointimidate. He rolled his eyes at it.

The juxtaposition to his last visit was stark. The boy whohad sat in this very chair weeks ago was scared, frightened of being convictedfor a crime he didn’t commit and ready for this faux Stepford town to hang himout to dry. Now though he was a far cry from that fear ridden boy. Now he wasscorned man, mocked by his own desire to be happy, robbed of hope and trustdiscarded like yesterday’s trash. He was vengeful and angry, darkness allconsuming. He was drowning.

“Look Jones I don’t have time for this,” the Sheriff triedto reason, sighing and opening a file in front of him.

“Are you sure? Murders been solved remember.”

“Your dad’s involved with the Serpent’s; can you tell meabout that?” Keller pressed on, the question coming out through ground teeth.

Jughead laughed again, sinister and low.

“Wow you really are good. What gave it away? The leatherjacket or the zip code?” He paused, taking a moment to bask in the authorityfigure’s stare- pure distain, any trace of sympathy long gone. Good Jughead thought. He loathed sympathy.“I don’t know anything about my dad’s business with the Serpent’s. Just that hewas one. I didn’t ask, he didn’t care to share,” he continued, his tone lazy,almost bored yet still poisoned with a harsh edge.

“And you’re sure about that? He never tried to share, shallwe say ‘tricks of the trade’ with his son?” The Sheriff implored him with hiseyes, clearly disbelieving his ability to avoid the gang trajectory. Jugheadscoffed.

“You mean did daddy dearest ever try and get me in on thefamily business?” Keller had the decency to flinch at the sarcastic remark,causing the dark boy’s smirk to widen. “I know it’s hard to believe that aSouthside pest like me is capable of avoiding that way of life, but I never gotinvolved. So unless you wanna take another trip down memory lane and rehash mytime in juvie can I go?”

The older man held a hand out in warning and Jughead let outan exasperated sigh, halting his movement to abscond. He settled back in thechair, raising his brows and waiting for the next question.

“Did you ever see the lockbox in the back of the closet?”

“No. I was long gone by then.”

That got Keller’s interest.

“Excuse me?”

Jughead let out another humourless chuckle, the sound eerieand unnerving in the small room. The air felt heavy, the tension palpable.

“Couch surfing.” He offered no more, it wasn’t even the truthbut he didn’t feel the need to uproot his childhood sap story with the man whowas responsible for putting his dad behind bars, and was developing a habit ofshaking him down.

“Okay,” the older man relented, nodding in affirmation. Jugheadalmost thought he was free; until… “And is there anything you wanted to sayabout your father’s character?”

His eyes bulged in disbelief, his upper lip curling back ina snarl.

“What? Murder not enough to convince you of his goldenpersonality?”

“I said cut the sass boy, now are you going to give me areal answer or not?” The Sheriff did his best to keep calm, reminding himselfthe kid was having a rough time and attempting to keep his biases about their kindat bay.

Jughead however, was not managing the same feat. The Sheriff’sreply had triggered something inside him, setting off his last nerve andunleashing the rage brewing beneath his skin.

“WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY? The man’s a stand-up guy!Father of the year for Christ’s sake!” He was standing now, his fists comingdown hard on the table, sending tremors through its structure to match theshaking of his resolve. His eyes were hard and pained, his lips quivering everso slightly.

“He’s everything you would think of someone from our side oftown right? A drunk, a deadbeat, a gangbanger. It’s all true. So why not addmurder to his CV. He doesn’t give a shit about his own kid so why would he careabout anyone else’s.” these words were not spoken in outrage, rather they werequiet, menacing and enshrined with a raw grief, sinister deprecation and loathingthat made the Sheriff recoil back.

Jughead’s eyes bore into his.

A moment passed and then he was out the door.

A knock resounded through the Andrews’ residence.

“Coming,” Fred called, throwing the tea towel down on the benchas he moved around the counted and toward the front door.

His eyebrows furrowed in surprise upon seeing a stranger onthe other side of the door.

“Uh Hi,” he greeted, a slight frown forming on his face andan unsettling feeling rising in his bones. The lady whom stood in the thresholdwas dressed in a pressed grey pant suit, her hair neat and a warm smile on herface; it was practiced, part of a routine.

“Mr Andres, hi. I’m Julie from social services,” the womenintroduced herself, her tone professional and polite. Fred felt his stomachsink at her words, he knew what this was about, he’d been expecting it.

“Fred, nice to meet you. Come on in,” he moved aside andgestured for the woman to enter and head toward the kitchen. She did so with agracious nod and he moved to shut the door behind her, taking a deep breath.

“Can I get you anything?”

“No thank you. Now I’m assuming you’ve concluded I’m here todiscuss Forsythe Jones?” The lady checked, the professional tone lingering andmaking Fred feel a little apprehensive toward her. He nodded anyways, affirminghis awareness.

“Jughead,” he corrected though.

“I’m sorry?” her face was contorted in evident confusion.

“ah Forsythe, he goes by Jughead.”

“Oh, well then let’s talk about Jughead,” she smiled, andFred felt a little more at ease; she hadn’t recoiled at the name, seemingly notjudging the kid by a quirk.

“Okay. His dad’s in jail, his mom’s absent so he needs aguardian correct?” Fred asked not one to dance around a topic. Julie nodded hersmile transforming into one of sympathy.

“Yes, an unfortunate situation for any kid. How’s he doing?”she asked, diverting the question but assumingly with necessary questions- and bynecessary Fred thought them to be protocol.

“Holding up,” Fred replied, leaning against the counter.

“Good. Now Jughead’s mother has been contacted but she isunable and unwilling to have him come stay with her at this stage in time,which means he will become a warden of the state,” the lady explained carefullyand Fred felt his blood boil at the thought of a parent abandoning their childin their darkest hour. Jughead didn’t deserve it. He was a good kid who hadbeen dealt a bad hand. It was unfair.

Fred sighed and shook his head, unsure of what to say next.

“My understanding is that he’s been living with you the pastfew months, is that correct?” Julie continued, looking down at a file in herhand.

“Yes, I went to high school with his dad, and my son is hisbest friend,” Fred explained. He hesitated before adding, “the kid’s prettymuch family.” He wasn’t really sure what they wanted from him, if he was beingtested. It made him feel uncomfortable.

“Well it’s nice to know he has people in his corner,” Julieappeased, smiling at him in what he supposed was meant to be reassuring,scribbling on a piece of paper.

“So he’ll continue to stay here then?” Fred prompted, unsurewhere this was going. Julie looked up, her eyes losing their professional sheenand her pep deflating a little. She hesitated before sighing and admitting, “UnfortunatelyMr Andrews, you are not eligible to be Jughead’s guardian, anyone with priorconvictions is excluded.” She looked genuinely sorry and Fred’s gut twistedwith guilt; he was just another person to be added to the long list of them whohad let Jughead down. As if his words the other night, in a time of distress hadn’t been enough tofracture the trust the kid had in him.

Fred exhaled loudly, his body slumping against the counter.

“Dammit. So what’s the plan then?”

“A foster family on the Southside of town have offered totake him. They’re good people, we’ve worked with them a bit. I think it’s agood fit for him. The only down side is he will have to transfer schools,”Julie went on to explain, her training kicking in again as she orated thesituation with a delicacy that was only complimented and not contrasted by herassertiveness.

Fred nodded, feeling completely helpless and utterlyterrible.

His frustration at himself was only outweighed by the worryand concern he felt toward the reactions the kid’s would have when they gothome shortly. He knew Jughead wouldn’t necessarily be happy about it, but the kidwas used to displacement and disappointment and it was likely he would take iton the chin, pull his walls up and wallow in the darkness later. Archiehowever, was a different story. He would surely argue the injustice of it all,unable to accept the unfairness the world was dictating for them, yet incapableto stop it.

#riverdale #riverdale fanfiction #bughead fanfiction #jughead jones

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ellanainthetardis · 7 years

Note

My darling, I'd have a prompt for you: Hayffie have sex at some secreted, public place (at a party or something) and in all the passion, Effie loses on of her earings. She doesn't notice until it is too late to go back to the place to search for it. Work your magic with this idea

Here you go! [x]

The Case Of The Missing Earring

“Do not look so smug.” she chided him with agiggle as the car slowly made its way back to the Training Center.

Haymitch was slumped against the window, watchingher with a smirk, his grey eyes twinkling. He pushed himself upright and placeda hand on her bare thigh, inching the hem of her dress that little bit higher. It wasn’t really purposeful but it wasenough to make her lick her lips.

“We won’t have time.” she told him.

“Back in the penthouse.” he declared. “I wantyou without that crap on your face.”

His fingers drummed a teasing beat on her innerthigh and she giggled again, unable to stop herself. She even opened her legs alittle, sparing a thought for what her mother would have had to say about that.The knowledge that his hand would meet no barrier of fabric if he decided totorture her a bit before they arrived too much to be born quietly. Her lacythong was in his pocket and it turned her on.

“Aren’t you tired of having me yet?” shepurred, covering his hand with hers, not so subtly urging it higher on her leg.

The party had been boring: atrocious food, awful music and lukewarm beverages – shedidn’t envy the host who would probably be dragged in the press for it fordays. Sponsors had been sulking and had been even more unwilling than usual tobe courted so Haymitch and Effie had found ways to keep themselves entertained.It had started innocently enough with their usual banter but it had escalatedquickly into a fight that had demandedtension to be relieved at once.

They had remained locked in the bathroom for agood portion of the evening.

It had been reckless, truth be told, becausethey could easily have been discovered but it had also been so thrilling… She liked the urgency ofdoing it in a public place with him. She liked dropping to her knees andgetting down to business, knowing there were people on the other side of thedoor who would never know what they were doing. She liked having to bite downon her hand to muffle the sounds when he pounded into her from behind, eyeslocked in the mirror over the sink. It was hot and exciting.

“Not yet, sweetheart.” he chuckled, letting herguide his hand under her dress. She dropped her head back as he worked her upslowly but efficiently.

She was a bundle of nerves by the time the carreached the Center and it was more difficult than it ought to look her part forthe cameras and the people standing guard in front of the doors. She waved atthe fans, smiled, and acted like her usual bubbly self but her eyes keptdarting back to him. He wasn’t oblivious to her attention even as he pulled offhis own public persona, he glanced at her often enough, his gaze clouded withlust.

They kept it together until the elevator’sdoors closed, cutting them off from the world. Then they jumped on each other.She was quicker and she had him pinned to the wall in a moment, blindlyfumbling with the control panel to find the penthouse button.

Her dress was half unzipped when they reachedthe last floor and they stumbled out of there like two clumsy drunks despitethe fact that they were both quite sober. Her wig was torn off her head beforethey reached her room.

“Take everything off.” he mumbled against herlips, slipping off his waistcoat.

She gently pushed him away, licking her lips.“Give me a moment.”

She let the green dress fall to the floor asshe made her way to the dressing table, already reaching for a wipe to eraseher make-up. He stood right behind her, impatiently working on the lacing ofher corset. He had almost succeeded in freeing her when she started taking offher jewelry, not quite pleased with her reddish bare face. She took care of therings first because they were huge and she had accidentally hurt him with themmore than once, then the heavy diamond necklace around her neck right as thecorset dropped on her lap, and then…

Then she froze.

“No.” she said out loud, very clearly andforcefully, as if it would change anything.

Happy to finally have her naked, Haymitch hadbeen unbuttoning his shirt. He froze too and then frowned when he caught aglimpse of her in the mirror. “What’s wrong?”

It was plainto see what was wrong.

How long had she been wearing only one earring?

She patted her hair, hoping it had gotten stuckin there, and, when she came up empty handed, she bolted from the stool to feelthe dress that was in a heap on the floor. Haymitch stepped closer but lookedat a loss.

“What’s wrong?”he repeated.

“What is wrong? What is wrong? I lost an earring! Thatis what is wrong!” she snapped, letting go of the dress to run to the hallwaywhere the wig laid abandoned. She was deeplyhoping it was tangled in the synthetic hair.

“You’re killing the mood for a fucking earring?” he scowled. “How manyhave you got?”

She looked up at him from her crouchingposition in the hallway, not at all caring about being naked. “It is a diamond earring. My favorite diamond earring.”

He rolled his eyes. “You’ve got hundreds ofthem.”

“Not like those ones, no.” she retorted. “Theyare expensive, Haymitch. And I love them.”

They had been a parting gift from one of thestylists she used to work for. They held sentimental value – not that she wasabout to share that with him, he would only mock her.

“They’re just earrings.” he shrugged, clearlymissing the point, hauling her up by the arm before letting his palm roam onher side. “Let’s…”

“You have to go check the car.” she decided.“Perhaps it fell there.”

He let out an aggravated sigh. “You know whenit fell.”

“No, I do not.” she hissed. “Or I would havepicked it up, wouldn’t I?”

“Oh, come on, sweetheart…” he sneered. “We wentcrazy in that bathroom.”

Realistically, she knew he was probably rightbut if he was… Then, she would never get it back. There was no way she would ask the host about alost earring in a bathroom they weren’t supposed to use in the first placebecause the party was taking place downstairs and not upstairs.

“Please, go check the car.” she insisted.

He rolled his eyes. “I ain’t going to thetrouble of tracking down that car just to look for something that’s not there.”

“Fine.” she scoffed. “Then I will go myself.”

She stormed past him and back to her bedroom,picking up her green dress from the floor. She didn’t have time to put it on, hesnatched it away.

“We’ve got plans.” he growled.

“They are cancelled.” she retorted. “Be morecareful with my jewelry next time.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now, yeah?” he snorted. “You’ve got some nerves, Princess…You dragged me to that bathroom, notthe other way around.”

“And you demandedI give you a blow job.” she hissed. “And, asusual, despite my remarks, youcouldn’t help but mess with my wig. It isyour fault if I lost my earringthere.”

“Sure.”he spat. “Blame me. Just a quick question, sweetheart… Remind me… Who’s the onewho asked to be fucked fast andhard?”

She pursed her lips, narrowed her eyes andtilted her head to the side. “If you wish to be allowed to do that again oneday, I do believe you would be wellinspired to watch your words.”

“Please.” he scoffed. “I could push you on thisbed right now and fuck you right hereand you wouldn’t stop me. You’d beg for more probably. You’re a slut for this. For me.”

He had a point and they both knew it. It wasall the harder to deny when she was naked and her body was betraying her.However she held her ground, jutting her chin in the air.

“I want to check the car.” she stubbornlyinsisted, walking around him to grab her dressing gown. Since he didn’t want torelinquish her dress, she would go like that. She would use the Avox staircase,she decided. She wouldn’t need to see anyone. She would…

“You seriously think I’m going to let you walkaround the compound naked?” he growled when her intentions became clear.

“I did not know you had any right to stop me.”she replied matter-of-factly, striding to the hidden Avoxes’ access to thepenthouse.

He grabbed her around the waist well before sheeven reached the end of the corridor.

“Fine.”he grumbled. “Fine. I’ll check thecar even if it’s a complete waste of time.” She beamed and rewarded him with along peck on the mouth. He rolled his eyes, still scowling. “Stay here anddon’t wander around without clothes on.”

“I will wait for you on my bed.” she promisedwith a sassy grin. “And I will be very goodfor you. Go find my earring.”

It took him a long time to come back and shewas half asleep by the time she felt him sit on the mattress next to her.

“Typical.” he snorted. “You’re a fucking spoiled brat. You send me onerrands and when I come back, you’re asleep.”

“Did you find it?” she mumbled, not quiteawake. She burrowed down in the blankets he tugged over her naked body.

“No.” he denied. “Told you it wouldn’t bethere.”

“Oh…” she sighed, unable to hide her sadness.

“They meant so much to you those things?” heasked.

“Yes.” she admitted before rolling over to herother side and drifting off once more.

He was nowhere to be seen when she got up thenext morning, the penthouse was empty, but there was a jewelry box on her plateat the breakfast table.

She held her breath when she opened it becausehe wasn’t in the habit of giving her gifts– which also might explain why he was gone at the crack of dawn when heusually lounged in bed until noon – and couldn’t help a gasp when she saw thediamond earrings on their black velvet cushion.

They were different from the one she had lostbut they were simply gorgeous.

She immediately put them on and couldn’t stopherself from grinning all day. Shewore them proudly, like a taunting secret.

Haymitch made himself scarce all morning andall afternoon and it took quite a lot of skills to corner him into theliving-room later that night.

He scowled as soon as he heard her. “Don’t gomaking this into something it’s…” His voice trailed off when he turned to faceher and caught a glimpse of her. She was wearing nothing but her brand new earrings. He licked his lips, placing hisuntouched glass of whiskey on the liquor cart. “Good look on you, sweetheart.”

He didn’t resist when she pushed him down onthe couch and proceeded to thank him verythoroughly.

Afterward, as they laid panting, legs tangledtogether, he snorted.

“I’m gonna have to buy you stuff more often ifthat’s the thanks I get.”

#hayffie #effie trinket #haymitch abernathy #prompt #games time #teapot #coconuts friends #fluff #funny one

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